


Let Love In

by HPFandom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Drama, Explicit Language, First Time, Gen, M/M, Romance, Sexual Content, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-11-01
Updated: 2006-11-04
Packaged: 2018-09-30 12:07:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 28,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10162715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HPFandom_archivist/pseuds/HPFandom_archivist
Summary: Alternative Universe: Dabbling a bit with the end of the fourth, and playing with the fifth. Harry is distraught over Cedric’s death, and someone walks in on him at a very vulnerable point in his life, and begins to take things into his own hands. (Summary bound to change later. (may go along with JK‘s storyline, except with a bit more life :P ) Harry/Draco.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Note from SeparatriX, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [HP Fandom](http://fanlore.org/wiki/HP_Fandom_\(archive\)), which was closed for health and financial reasons. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [HP Fandom collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hpfandom/profile).

**Author Note:Hello, this is one of the first times I've sat down and posted or written in a long time. I haven't had an internet, and now I got it back and frankly, I'm Harry and Draco deprived. Honestly, I don't particularly understand the whole difference between Harry/Draco or Draco/Harry, but I do know this story will be more Draco take charge over Harry than the other way around. Maybe one of you could let me in on what is more popular and what's not. It's been - ages. I hope you like this story, this song is one of my all time favourites now... *I've played it out.* I think it goes with this story. Tell me what you think. Much appreciated, and if its a tad cliche... I'm sorry, But I've enjoyed writing it. Suggestions are more than welcomed:P Oh, I beta'd this on my own as best as I could. I dunno what happened to my becca boots, but she's been gone for quite a long time. :( I is missing her. If you find a mistake, please let me know, and I'll kindly go in and take care of it. I'm a fast updater, but I'm a menace when it comes to sequels... heh. Oh! Disclaimer; I do not own any of these characters, or their amazing qualities. They belong to JK Rowling and the other companies. I am making nothing but fun off her material, so - no copyright infringement intended. :)**

***

  
**Let Love In**

_You’re the only one I ever believed in. The answer that could never be found. The moment you decided to let love in… Now I’m banging on the door of an angel. The end of the fear is where we begin. The moment we decided to let love in. - Goo Goo Dolls_   


Prologue

His back was against the wall. Lips covered his in an attempt to swallow him and refuse all air that wanted to break through. This was so reckless. This - was so ridiculous. He heaved a sigh, his bright green eyes glowing in the darkness, he clasped his hand against the back of the pale blond’s neck, and up into his soft hair. His other hand pressing into the folds of clothes, searching for something bare to touch. It wasn’t planned, something like this never was. Just days before the two were fighting spiteful and the next moment, he‘s caught in the trophy room, during a very delicate moment and now, Harry Potter felt his body against the immobile wall and lips were covering his neck and bites were causing him to push his groin into the taller teen’s in an attempt to get closer. 

Harry had simply been staring at the golden cup that belonged to Cedric Diggory, a fellow student who was no longer around; perished by the return of Lord Voldemort. He had no idea, that being in the darkened room, would spark something when the Slytherin entered in all his pale and elegant glory. They ended up into a situation that was nearly out of control, how did this happen? Harry’s eye lashes flickered, and he groaned, when Draco’s hands ran up and down his chest, claiming him with his fingers, pinching against his pale skin and causing it to turn red. The two were supposed to hate each other. They were supposed to despise each other with their every being. But, instead, Draco’s shirt was unbuttoned, Harry’s pants were caressingly unzipped, and the two were unconsciously pulling and tugging at each other, in attempt to remove some of these articles of clothing that were obstructing their form of play. The torches on the wall displayed spider shadows of the flames and then larger shadows of them moving and pushing against one another, their breathing getting more and more laboured. Since when did he like guys? This was another thing his mind was trying to understand, but his mind was fogging over, with incomprehensible pleasures, flowing underneath his skin, prickling it sensually. 

Draco Malfoy was taller than Harry who was much smaller than most people in his class. He was only fourteen, and he found his mouth against another’s boy’s lips, unable to help it, unable to comprehend anything but the bliss and passion that flowed between the teens. 

This was not supposed to happen, his mind screamed once again, while his body and heart betrayed the logical part of his being; the two weren’t supposed to be doing this. Only yesterday, the two were in big trouble for duelling in the middle of Transfiguration, and here they were in the Trophy room, Harry had been grieving as he stared at the gold cup that belonged to Cedric Diggory, and now, Draco was cleaning his neck with his mouth. 

Oh, what a beautiful mouth though, thought Harry in utter bliss. His cat black hair falling across his shoulders and being pushed aside by Draco’s forceful hands. What is it about making it with your enemy? What made it so damn sexy and licentious? He hummed, and ran his hands up Draco’s fine chest. He was a good looking sight to behold. He thought to himself, as his fingers played against Draco’s pale chest and upwards toward his nipples, and then he flicked against them, making Draco hiss, and bite against Harry’s neck in a more sexual way. The smaller teen called out in heavenly surprise. 

Harry didn’t want to stop touching, he pressed his hands flat against Draco’s chest. It was smooth and thin. Harry whimpered, and moved his head, raising it up and kissing against Draco’s cheek, nudging him wantonly for his mouth. Draco’s head rose from Harry’s marked neck and pressed his lips robustly against the pleading boy. Harry’s heart was thumping vigorously, as he touched Draco’s beloved chest, and then around his back and down slightly where the small of his back was. He loved touching Draco. He shouldn’t love it though; he should hate it, and cringe, but instead his body perked and his heart fluttered, even more then when the blond walked into rooms. But hadn’t the fluttering been flutters of despise and hatred? Confusion - His brain screamed, along with much else. Harry’s tongue massaged against Draco’s in a desperate want for attention and affection. Harry hardly ever received such affection, and his small body was craving, his heart was hungry and desperate. Draco’s hands came up and they brushed against Harry’s hair, lips moving from his mouth to his cheek and then toward his ear, and down just behind his lobe was kissed and licked. Harry’s eyes watered and they glittered so miraculously in the darkness of the room, his hands brushing and his face shamelessly pressing against Draco’s smooth cheek. He tasted so good - it was - a flavour of - something he could not describe. But, it was something he wanted to stay around… no - no, he couldn’t stay around. No, he shouldn’t be doing this but his heart and body was having different ideas than his mind. Two against one was never a winning combination - for the one that is. 

Harry’s hands came up, the buttons on Draco’s shirt were undone, and his arms wrapped around his neck, and through his hair, like he had many times within the last ten minutes. Or was it longer? He was at a loss for everything that did not contact hands and mouth groping and fondling for pleasure. He kissed the taller teen upon the shoulder, his mouth open slightly, when Draco’s hand slipped from Harry’s small abdomen and then down, causing the teen’s green eyes to widen, and give a gentle gasp of surprise. Harry, unsure of his young self, stiffened, and not just his erection. He whimpered, into Draco, as the taller teen raised a free hand and titled Harry’s chin up, so that they were eye to eye. He pressed chaste kisses against the boy’s blush coloured lips. “Never been touched there - _huh?_ ” 

With a shake of his head Harry answered him; Draco gave him a smile, _“Good-_ ” He licked his bottom and top lip that were pouted just slightly. Draco’s finger slid across Harry’s pink lips. “Who’d have thought, you tasted so delicious.” Just then Draco’s lips pressed against Harry’s, his tongue invading his mouth, causing him to swallow. “You _feel_ it too-” 

Harry had been called many things, but he had never once been called delicious. Sure, he was small, long black hair, brightest green eyes in the school - and he had the most innocent face that could make anyone’s heart melt, for the most part. But, he had never been described as delicious. 

The burning sensation made its way deep inside Harry’s body, surging and racing through his veins and opening up parts of him that had never been opened. Draco began to rub him through his trousers. The teen whimpered, and clung against Draco, his mouth against the teen, who grabbed him by the black head, and forced his head up so that Draco’s silver/blue eyes were staring into his eyes of starlight emeralds. “ _Look_ at me.” Harry’s face registered pleasure and a foreign bliss that had not been there before. He could not lose his contact with Draco, as he began to shudder slightly and push his hips into the bigger teen’s hand. Draco nodded, “That’s it baby, cum for me - let me watch your face…” Harry’s forehead wrinkled gently, and he wanted to close his eyes, but the chaste kisses Draco placed against him was making it hard. Before Harry knew it he felt a sensation like electric shock shoot straight up his body, and a gentle moan escaped the teen’s lips, as he felt himself climax and bucked violently against Draco, who grinned and then kissed Harry so hard, that he felt his knees buckle under him, the kiss was so intense and so - feel worthy. But, before he could drop from Draco’s touch, the blond held him, with both arms around his thin waist, and continued to kiss, even after the fireworks and bliss. Harry’s mind was so clouded, was so fogged - that he could only cling to Draco, unwilling to let him go…


	2. Chapter One

  
Author's notes: Alternative Universe: Dabbling a bit with the end of the fourth, and playing with the fifth. Harry is distraught over Cedric’s death, and someone walks in on him at a very vulnerable point in his life, and begins to take things into his own hands. (Summary bound to change later. (may go along with JK‘s storyline, except with a bit more life :P ) (don't exactly know the difference between H/D and D/H.   
But its one of them. :P  


* * *

**Author's Notes:  
Got any stories, I could read? Of Harry/Draco or Draco/Harry? Doesn't matter so long as there's not suicide, cutting, or physical abuse between them two. :P **

 

Chapter One

It was morning, the birds chirruped outside and although the Tri-Wizard Tournament was finished, one dead, one saved, and one Dark Lord, arisen; Harry was feeling scarily good, when his eyes finally opened back up to the world around him. He was lying on his stomach in the boy’s dorm in Gryffindor Tower. He could hear movement, murmurs, and yawns all around. His heart was beating steadily, but then it sped up as he raised his black head; he tried to register what was going on in the world of Harry Potter and in his own head. His black hair which was messy all around his face and shoulders made him look so - startling with the pale skin and matching green eyes. He was bare chest, and the gold and scarlet blanket wrapped around his bottom half. With his head raised, he removed his hand from underneath his pillow and wiped the sleep from his eyes. He then remembered last night… 

_Last night_ was surreal. He had been hurting; in so much emotional pain and turmoil that he just wanted to lay down and never wake, the guilt, the sadness, all swelled at the same time. His eyes had been on the gold cup that had been awarded to Cedric, and he was struggling with his own tears. He had to watch a horrific sight. A sight he never ever wanted to witness, a situation he could not believe, he had somehow gotten out of unscathed. Who would have thought? Then - _he_ came along, entering the trophy room. Harry had been so enraptured with his own grief and tears that he had not heard the Slytherin come up behind him. It wasn’t until Draco Malfoy’s fingers combed through the ends of his black hair, that the teen had reacted, not paying any attention to who it was, he had lowered his head turned around and wrapped his arms around Draco - and _literally_ cried. At the moment, he hadn’t cared who it was, at all. It could have been Snape and he still wouldn’t have cared. He had been so hurt, and so torn, that he had felt his heart splitting in two. What really surprised him was when Draco began to rub his back, saying nothing and doing nothing except for tender massaging circles. He remembered, when he finally came too his senses, he was smelling a scent, that was enrapturing, but he didn’t recognize it and he shot his head up only to come face to face with the colour of the sky. He remembered, gasping, and backing away, but Draco pulled him closer and pressed a chaste kiss against his forehead, both cheeks, and then his lips. Something, he seriously had not expected something he would never dream of doing with Draco Malfoy. 

Harry unconsciously shifted and turned over, and laid flat on his back, and stared up at the ceiling. He was about to try and curl up back asleep, when he heard, “Harry? You awake yet?” It was his redheaded best friend, Ron. Raising himself up in a sitting position, Harry shoved the curtain away to see Ron coming over, clad in muggles clothes. He sank down next to his bed. “How you feeling mate?” Truthfully, Harry didn’t know. The young teen gave Ron a helpless shrug. Ron smiled lightly, and ruffled Harry’s head. “You’ll be alright. I’m hungry! Get dressed and we can meet Hermione and go to the Great Hall.” 

Simply nodding, the raven-haired boy shoved the covers down, and swung his legs to where his feet were flat on the carpeted floor. Ron stood and held out his hand, “Up ya get my silent mate.” 

Harry gave him a small smile and accepted the helping hand to where he was standing only coming to his best friend’s shoulders. Harry wanted to say something, but he just didn’t have anything to say at the very moment. So, instead, he hugged Ron, who couldn’t help but hug back. “Any other bloke, I’d be worried, but you - hah, I can’t deny it.” 

Harry laughed softly, and gently let go before bending over to his trunk and pulling out the only sets of muggle clothes he had, which belonged to Dudley. 

“Oye! I got ya to laugh! Wicked!!” said Ron, punching the air. 

The small teen laughed again, “I’m sorry, Ron. I’m just - quiet.” 

Ron grinned, “S’alright mate. I understand! Honestly, I‘m not as daft as Hermione pegs me to be!” 

Laughing some more, Harry agreed, “I know.” 

When he entered the bathroom for his shower, he placed his clothes upon the sink and peered into the mirror. Whoa! Thought Harry in absolute shock. He had bite marks and bruises along his neck and ear line, they certainly had not been there before. Harry wondered if he could pass them off as bruises from the graveyard. He was sure; Draco Malfoy did not want Harry to associate him with these marks. It must have been just a moment of - sheer difficulty that drove Draco to actually touch the famous Harry Potter in such a way. But, he shuddered and felt his body react, as he remembered the touching, the feeling, the squeezing, and especially the tasting. He shook his head erratically. Man, since when did he get these in his head? Weren’t the two enemies? Weren’t they supposed to despise each other’s very being? Why couldn’t he find it in him to do such? Was it because of the lustful act of last night? Or - was it the fact, which Harry found out that maybe Draco’s not such a heartless Slytherin?

The teen went to take a hot shower, and he could only do so much to get his erection to go down. He felt in bliss as he stroked himself, thinking about last night, with someone he wished he could know more of… 

When Harry got out, he dried his hair brushed it out and dressed. He was wearing oversized baggy jeans, that required a belt to hold them up and a black t-shirt. His hair covered most of his neck and the bites marks that were associated around certain areas. His hair was brushed out and it laid caressingly just passed his shoulder blades. He wore no more glasses; a potion had cured that instantly. 

With one last look at himself, he shrugged, and walked out with his old stuff and threw it in his trunk. Ron had been waiting for him, chewing on a chocolate frog. 

“Come on mate! I’m starving now!” 

Harry followed Ron out of the room and down the staircase. His heart was pounding, as he made it to the common room and saw Hermione standing around, waiting. She hugged Harry as soon as she saw him, her bushy brown hair smelled, freshly washed, and her brown eyes sparkled, as she got on Harry’s side and they all three walked out together into the corridors of Hogwarts. 

Kids ran by, some laughing, some a bit sad, after the death of Cedric, it had struck the school hard. Especially, the Hufflepuffs. Harry felt so bad for them, and he had to control the brewing emotions that swept around him. Harry looked to the flagstone ground that was skidded with shoe marks and a bit of mud. Hermione looped her arm through his unconsciously; the two were the exact same height. Harry gave her a small smile at the gesture, while they scaled the Grand Staircase and into the blazing Great Hall. The sun was shining down from the sky made ceiling, and students bustled along. Harry saw Cho still sobbing into her best friend’s shoulder and saw that most of Hufflepuff had pushed their food back and were just conversing in soft tones with one another. Harry did not look over at Slytherin; he figured it was best that he didn’t, even though he ended up sitting in eye view at Gryffindor Table. Ron sank next to him, while Hermione sat across from them. Her eyes going to Harry with concern. Ron would cast him glances. 

“You gonna eat mate?” asked Ron. 

“Of course he’s going to eat!” said Hermione tutting, and adding Harry’s favourites to his plate. 

“I’ll eat a bit.” Was Harry’s response, as he picked up a strawberry and began to nibble and suck at the end. Hermione started conversation, Ron jumped in, but Harry simply half-listened, as he stared afar, into nothingness. He felt eyes on him however, halfway through his strawberry, and he had a feeling he knew who. Well, he might as well, make eye contact. He thought, as he shifted his gaze, fluttered his eyelashes unconsciously and locked them with a pair of blue ice coloured ones. Draco’s eyebrow went upwards. He looked good, thought Harry, mildly as he sat there his back straight, his blonde hair falling lightly into his eyes. He was staring at Harry while taking a drink of his orange juice. Harry noticed the teen’s hands, and found himself remembering last night, and inwardly shook it out of his head. Not, here! He thought to himself forcefully. No one was paying any attention to them. No one would ever suspect that Harry and Draco were making eye contact with one another. 

Harry removed the strawberry and placed it on the plate and picked up a blueberry and popped it into his mouth. He then pushed the plate away. Draco holding both of his hands to the goblet peered at him forcefully over the cup. His fingers that were curled around it, he had three rings set upon them. One was a skull with diamond green eyes. One was a Hogwart’s ring, with the Slytherin seal, and then the other was plain gold on his middle finger. Draco shook his head to Harry. 

The teen looked at him confused. Draco then pointed to his plate and then back to him. Harry understood and shook his head discreetly, he wasn’t hungry. Draco’s blue eyes narrowed, and he pointed again to the plate. Harry picked up another blueberry, ate it, and then tilted his head to the side. Draco rolled his eyes. Harry gave him a teasing smile. 

This was a very brand new happening. Thought Harry to himself. This never happened. The two never made eye contact unless it was to glower or flip one another off. It was a very - new occurrence. But, Harry was welcoming it. 

After last night… what choice did he have? Harry was quite enamoured. 

Finally, he had to break eye contact; Pansy tapped against Draco and Harry was put into a conversation about plants by Neville. 

After breakfast, Harry found himself walking with his friends out of the Great Hall and toward the front doors in the Entrance Hall of Hogwarts. They were going to see Hagrid. Ron and Hermione were hoping to cheer Harry up this way. Harry was fine, he just - wasn’t in the talkative mood at the very moment. He wasn’t depressed, he was just getting over a death - but - he just - didn’t feel like associating much. Hermione was just coming back from the girl’s bathroom; Harry and Ron were waiting, when Draco and his friends walked out of the Great Hall. Harry bristled; Ron glowered, at Draco, who simply glanced to Harry. 

Pansy opened her mouth, her eyes glittering with malice, “So - Diggory dead huh? So - very sa- owww!” she shrieked, when Draco smacked her very hard with the back of his hand against the right side of her chest. 

“Shut the fuck up, Pansy.” Hissed Draco. 

Hermione and Ron just looked at Draco, who did not meet their eyes and instead, he walked on. Pansy was standing there struck with shock. “Draco? What was that for?” she squealed; she had forgotten about the Gryffindors as she went running toward the blonde who just glowered at her. 

“You are such a bitch-” Was the last the trio heard before they disappeared into the dungeons. 

“That was weird.” said Ron, in utter surprise. 

“Maybe he just didn’t want to get in trouble.” suggested Hermione. 

Harry bit a smile, “Or maybe-” pondered Harry. “Draco Malfoy actually has a heart.” He knew he was stretching it, to suggest this in front of his two best friends.

Ron scrunched his nose; Hermione actually looked curious, “He could…” said Hermione. “It’s possible.” 

The redhead shook his head, looking disgusted at the thought, “Nah! Malfoy? Yeah right! Come on, Harry, let’s go see Hagrid!! I’m sure he’ll cheer you up.” 

He already felt cheered up though, he thought to himself, with a smile, as he and his friends walked out into the warm June weather. The birds sang and the sun shown all around the grassy green courtyard of Hogwarts. It was a mellow day, and Harry felt his heart warming back up and his spirit coming back alive. When Hagrid’s hut came into view, so did all his brightly coloured fruit trees that had round fruits as large as pumpkins on the sagging branches.

He didn’t get much of a chance to even speak with Malfoy, over the next couple days. Since Harry’s personality started coming back, Ron was taking full advantage of it, and so was Hermione prepping them for their fifth year OWL exams. Harry, however, was found flicking his quill, and smiling gently at his friends who began bickering. Harry leaned back in the library and watched, when his eyes naturally lifted upwards, and he saw Draco waltz in with his best friend Blaise Zabini, who was a tall good looking black guy with chocolate brown eyes. Draco moved between tables, his head held high, and Blaise was staring around the room, in his usual shrewd disposition. Draco’s eyes then came up and locked with Harry’s as he walked toward the back of the books. 

Harry’s head moved, and followed Draco’s progress, until he was out of sight and hidden between the folds of the shelves. Breathing in, gently through his nose, Harry turned his attention back to Ron and Hermione and then flicked his wand causing both to yelp in utter surprise, and stare over at Harry, who smiled. 

“Welcome back.” Teased the Gryffindor Seeker. 

Ron and Hermione glowered and rubbed their bums. Harry had sent a charm that pinched their butts. It was very useful he had gotten out of a book; Fred and George bought him for Christmas. Harry simply chuckled at their sulking looks. 

The final feast was upon Harry, no House Cup would be rewarded and instead of colour banners over the Great Hall house tables, it was banners of solid black in remembrance of Cedric Diggory. Harry had his eyes on his plate the whole way through the feast, but when his name was mentioned, he cringed visibly, and discreetly glanced up to see to his utter astonishment, that Draco had raised his goblet. Harry looked down real quick, back at his plate. He felt himself smile on the inside. 

Harry was really down when he left the hall; he pressed himself against the wall, waiting for his friends to come out. He would give all the money in his Gringotts Bank if he didn’t have to go back to the Dursleys. Just as he was about to move from the wall, an owl fluttered over and landed upon his shoulder. He looked over expecting to see Hedwig, but was visibly surprised when he saw an eagle owl. “Hey little man!” said Harry, raising his hand and stroking the owl’s head, when he hooted and poked at his feet. 

“Oh, I didn’t expect that.” he said, softly, and he untied the letter from the owl, just as Hermione and Ron came walking out, bickering as always. The owl hooted clipped Harry on the ear. It raised its wings and flew up and away as Ron and Hermione made their way over. 

The yellow parchment felt a bit strange, thick, like there was something in it. 

“Hey Harry, what’s that?” asked Ron, coming over. 

“Uhm, no idea. It was just dropped off. Maybe from Sirius.” he murmured, and he ripped the letter open and when he opened it, a white rose fell out into his hand. The letter was not long at all. The teen smiled wide, when he read the few lines, as Draco and his friends bustled out of the hall at that very moment. 

_Don’t regret me. I don’t you._

“Harry!?” Questioned Hermione, unable to read, for Harry had been hiding them. But, they saw the rose. 

He grinned, picked up the rose and smelled it. “Nothing.” He said, his eyes glittering, as he placed the letter in his pocket. “Don’t worry about it.” He turned and led the way toward Gryffindor, leaving his two friends flummoxed.


	3. Chapter Two

  
Author's notes: Alternative Universe: Dabbling a bit with the end of the fourth, and playing with the fifth. Harry is distraught over Cedric’s death, and someone walks in on him at a very vulnerable point in his life, and begins to take things into his own hands. (Summary bound to change later. (may go along with JK‘s storyline, except with a bit more life :P ) (don't exactly know the difference between H/D and D/H.   
But its one of them. :P Prologue(replaced)  


* * *

Chapter Two

 

The blistering heat that pressed in against Harry’s body restricting his breathing ever so slightly. It was a scorching afternoon, and one in which Harry really wished he did not have to be doing what he was doing at the very moment in time. His coal black hair was pulled back low in a ponytail. He was wearing a white ripped up t-shirt that was so large it touched his knees. He was covered in top soil and sweat. The trousers he was wearing were grey sweats, and did not help keep the heat out, and instead his legs felt sticky along with the rest of his body. For three straight days, he had been outside pulling at the burnt weeds and flowers in his aunt’s garden. The sun was dandelion yellow, and Harry felt the sweat dripping off his body, as he moved his hands along the seems of the weeds, pulling them up with the roots and tossing them into a bin behind him. His back was killing and as he stood he groaned, his face flashed pain. He rubbed his back and moved around, before lowering himself back to the begonias. 

There was hardly anyone outside, it was so hot and dreadful, they were supposed to conserve water, but no one ever listened, even if they were, in a depressing drought that made everything and anything dry up and shrivelled like a prune. He breathed in heavily, feeling the heat against him, and was about to fall to his knees to finish the weeds when someone placed a cold glass of lemonade in front of his face. 

Harry blinked, and stared at the lemonade, he recognized those hands. He thought to himself, as he looked up, into the familiar face of Draco Malfoy. But, instead of the pureblood Draco Malfoy, Harry knew, this Draco you really, honestly, could not tell that he was a wizard at all, unless you stared at the Slytherin class ring. He was wearing crème khaki cargo pants and a blue short sleeved button up shirt. He had a light brown woven belt and his pale hair flicked into his blue eyes. “D- Draco?” He said, hoarsely; taking the offered glass, and standing up straight and looking around. “W- wha?” The teen was positively floored. How did Draco get here, and - how did he know? 

“Everyone knows where you live Harry. Well, anyone with half a brain, that is.” said Draco, in a calm voice. “Drink that, you can’t talk.” Harry looked at the yellow liquid and quickly placed it to his chapped lips, drinking in the tangy sweetness. It went down him and it hydrated his body quickly. He looked around him and then looked down at himself. Boy, he was a sight for sore eyes. He thought with disgust. Harry was then wondering if Draco was an illusion. Was he hallucinating from the sun? He looked up and around him again, well, it wouldn’t be the first time. He thought, glancing back over at Draco who arched an eyebrow. “That better?” 

“I - I don’t understand?” whispered Harry. “H- how did you get here?” 

“Took the Knight Bus.” said Draco, “I took it to Cherry Street so no one suspected, and then walked here. “Your relatives aren’t home. I saw you outside; you looked as if you were going to pass out. ” 

“No, they went out to eat.” 

“And you’re left behind?” asked Draco, firmly. “Why?” 

Harry looked at him, and then back at the house. “My relatives hate me.” He told Draco, abruptly. “They can’t stand my very presence.” 

Draco pursed his lips together, and he looked around him, “You look like shit. Why do you wear that?” 

“I have nothing else.” said Harry, handing him the lemonade. “What? Want me to walk around naked?” 

Draco arched an eyebrow, “Really want me to answer that?” 

Harry’s faced flushed, and he looked down at himself, and then back up, to see a smirk on Draco’s face. Getting a hold of himself, he sighed, “I have to finish this - if I don’t - I’ll not eat tonight.” Draco’s features changed immediately, and he watched as Harry went back to work, “So - I - I’ve never had anyone come to visit me.” said Harry, softly. “You’re the first.” 

“Not even your friends?” asked Draco, surprised. 

“Well, except to rescue me, in my second year.” said Harry, on his knees, his hands grabbing at the ends of the weeds and yanking. 

“That’s bull shit.” Harry glanced up at him, to see his face contorted with anger. “How can they do that?” 

“It’s not their faults.” said Harry. 

“No, I mean them fucking muggles! How can they do that?” 

Harry shrugged, “They always have. Comes naturally, where I’m concerned.” 

“Your Dumbledore’s favourite!” exclaimed Draco. “And I’m not saying that to insult you-” He said, holding his hand up, stopping Harry from protesting. “I can’t believe this! Seriously, Harry, you are his favourite and I am not talking about student wise. But, he sends you back here? Does he even know?” 

“I am sure he does.” said Harry, remembering his letter from first year. “It took thousands of owls and Hagrid, before I could even read my letter.” 

Draco looked pissed off. “That’s absurd! Why, I oughta…” he crossed his arms, “Here! Drink!” He ordered Harry, who looked up at him, and took the glass, without hesitation and took another drink before handing it back. “And _stop_ that!” he said sharply. _“Cherity!_ ” He called aloud, and before Harry’s eyes a little house elf in a light green coloured pillow appeared out of nowhere. 

“Master Draco wanted to see, Cherity, sir!” she bowed twice, and looked up at him adoringly. 

“Yeah, I did.” said Draco, glancing at his elf. “I need you to clear this - muggle garden of all the weeds and dried flowers, and then bring some fresh fruit and ice water, please.” 

Cherity squeaked, “Yes, master Draco! Leave it to Cherity, sir!” She snapped her fingers and before Harry’s eyes the garden was in perfect working condition. The weeds and dead flowers gone and now lying in the bucket he had been dumping them in. “Cherity goes now, to get fruit and ice water.” she disappeared, leaving Harry to stare at Draco. 

“Y- You didn’t have to do that.” said Harry, crouched, still. 

“Sure I did. You’re not a slave. At least I asked her nicely. Cherity is my personal house-elf. She answers to no one but me. Not my father and not my mother. She’s mine, since her birth.”

Harry then stood up, the teen before him looked him over. “Good Merlin! What size do you wear in muggle clothes?” 

“No idea.” said Harry. 

“Whose are those?” asked Draco in disgust. 

“My cousins.” 

“ _Arghhh!_.” Draco shook his head, “I - I can’t fucking believe this. How can they bloody do that to you! I don’t - _Ulgh_.” he looked upset, he crossed his arms over his chest and pursed his lips together. 

“Draco?” said Harry, he was unsure of all this. He was so confused. 

“I had no idea; when I came over here, to see you and talk to you, that I would run into this! They treat you despicable and Dumbledore does nothing?” 

“Not really. Oh, well, they don‘t treat me so bad - because of -” He stopped suddenly, and winced, thinking of Sirius. “ _Wizard_ threats. This is nothing - compared to what they used to have me do.” 

Draco’s eyes narrowed, when there was a crack and Cherity reappeared with a brown basket. “Cherity has arrived Master Draco, with the fruit and water like you asks Cherity.” she squeaked, bowing too him. 

“Thank you Cherity. I’ll you call you again in a little while.” He dismissed her. 

Cherity beamed and bowed, “Yes, Master!” She disappeared instantly after that. 

Harry looked at the spot where the elf was, when Draco touched him on the shoulder. “You need you to eat.” He led Harry back to the Dursley’s house. They entered the cool kitchen to feel the fans going. The teen breathed in a deepened sigh, and headed to the kitchen sink and washed his hands and face with ice cold water. What Harry really needed was a shower, but that could wait. When he turned around, feeling 2/3’s refreshed, he saw that Draco had been watching him. There was food laid out for the both of them. 

Harry walked over and sank down, Draco sat beside him. “Thank you.” 

He arched an eyebrow, “No need.” He said, picking up a grape, as Harry went for the strawberries. 

“I’d have given you something ‘more’ however, I do not know what you like.” 

“Anything but eggs.” He said, softly, as he took a long drink of ice cold water. “And spinach, peas, uhm, lima beans - _yeah_.” He said, feeling his heart pound. He needed to stop rambling. 

“I’m not particularly fond of onions or corned beef.” Harry smiled at that. Thinking of Ron, briefly. Draco then bite down on an apple slice and then said, “I wanted to come over, and - _talk_ to you properly, without school and other people involved.” 

“I’m glad you came over.” said Harry, earnestly. 

“Are you really?” asked Draco, arms resting against the kitchen table. “Just a couple weeks ago you wanted to ring my neck and vice versa.” 

Harry looked at him, “You’re the first one whose seen me cry.” His face flushed gently, at the recollection. 

“You didn’t know it was me.” 

“No, I didn’t at first. I thought you were going to - use my crying as fuel.” 

“No.” said Draco. “That never came to my mind. Before, the maze happened, my thoughts had been _growing_ so to say. A lot of things I was saying or doing, I wasn’t getting anything out of it in return. I knew, I needed a change. I had to have a change, then _he_ came back. My father wrote me, it was almost a good-bye letter. He told me to choose my own path. That he would not force me to do what I did not wish to do. Since then, my mother has not been the same. It’s not doing very good for my family. We restored our name and now its going to be demolished again. I am realizing, that there’s something not right going on. The world doesn’t believe you or Dumbledore, which is probably the most stupid act I have ever seen or heard of the Ministry performing.” stated Draco, with disgust. “Dumbledore would not lie about that. I’m a bit _pissed off_ at him right now.” He admitted freely. “But, he’s not a fucking liar and neither are you.” 

Harry had been nibbling against a half a peach, staring unblinkingly at Draco. What was he supposed to say? 

“God, don’t stare at me like that!” exclaimed Draco, looking away and then he laughed out loud, “Stop, Harry! Please! You don’t know what that does.” 

Harry furrowed his eyebrows, “Huh? Me looking at you?” 

“Staring at me - unblinking with - those eyes!” insisted Draco, shaking his head. “You’re eyes are far too intense.” 

“I don’t understand?” asked Harry, puzzled. 

“Your eyes have so much passion in them.” 

Harry blushed, and looked down, that had not been expected. “I never knew-” He said, breathing in through his nose gently. 

“Of course not. How could you in a place like _this_.” stated Draco, darkly. “Anyway, that’s why I came over. I wanted to talk to you, without your friends, my friends, portraits moving and listening to every word we have to say and then gossiping back to one another.” 

“Yeah, really.” said Harry. “Thank you, for telling Pansy to shut up.” He said sincerely, as he took another glass of ice water. 

Draco scowled, “I can’t stand her. I never _could_. Blaise is my best friend. Crabbe and Goyle aren‘t as stupid as they let on. They‘re just silent.” 

“Where do they stand?” 

Draco looked at him, “So far, Blaise’s whole family is neutral. I don’t think, they really want anything to do with either side, unless it comes down to life and death. Crabbe and Goyle aren‘t stupid. They will follow me, unless I decided to become a Deatheater, and then I would lose their friendship, simply because he took their fathers away, and now - he‘s taking mine.”

Harry sat back in his seat, done with the fruit in front of him. He placed the glass of water to his lips and took a drink. “I’m sorry, he has to be back.” said Harry, “I’m sorry about your father too. I may not like him- but I do not like anyone losing a family member. _Especially_ , to him. However, your father might not be as lost as you might think. He could always turn to the light…” He thought about Severus while saying this. 

Draco shrugged, “I would like that, but I doubt it.” 

“Even if his son was on the light?” 

Draco sighed, “His priority is to the Dark Lord. I can’t say his name-” said Draco, “Or - rather - I don’t _want_ to say his name.” 

“Call him Tom then.” suggested Harry, “That _is_ his birth name.” 

“Tom?” asked Draco, confused. 

“Mhmm, Tom Marvolo Riddle.” Draco’s eyes widen, “His father was a muggle.” 

“What?!” 

“Yep, he told me so himself. In my second year. His father was a muggle, his mother was a pureblood, apparently from Slytherin’s side of the family.” 

“Bloody hell.” breathed Draco. “You’re serious.”

“Hmm, personally Draco, I believe too much purity of blood is a very bad thing.” 

He furrowed his eyebrows, “How you come up with that?” asked Draco, not in an accusing way but in a startled and surprised way. 

“Doubt you understand, coming from wizards and magic - but in the muggle world, when a closely blood related cousin breeds with another cousin its usually desperately frowned upon, its known as incest, and ‘science’ studies have shown that a lot of the time, when you incest with another and produce a child - they come out with something entirely wrong with their being. I think, that’s what happened to Voldemort.” Draco flinched at the name. “I think, his mother’s side was probably so thick in the family - that they incest with brothers and sisters and when it finally came to his mother - she probably had it so thickly - that he turned into a sociopath. Science, muggle science has actually proved that, incest can produce a lot of mental and health problems.”

“I never thought of that. It’s weird to me, but, in a way it makes sense. It would give a reason for all the purebloods ending up with squib kids.” 

“Hmm, yeah or someone like Voldemort with too much power.” 

“I’ve learned a lot more about you by sitting and talking in this muggle kitchen than I have in the last four years.” 

Harry smiled, “Well, Draco, I learned more about you as well. I like this you.” 

“This is the real me.” said Draco, truthfully. “Well, mostly.” He smirked. “I’m still an arrogant bastard, and don’t forget it.” 

Harry laughed, “Kind of hard too.” 

“You need a shower.” said Draco, looking him over. “You need new clothes, you need new everything.” He said, standing and piling everything into the basket unceremoniously. 

Harry checked the clock, “My relatives will be home in about an hour.” He said, glumly. 

Draco smirked, “Think, that’ll run me off?” Challenged the teen. 

Harry looked up at him, “Wouldn’t it?” 

“Hell no. Cherity?” He called, and she appeared out of nowhere. 

“Master Draco.” she squeaked bowing professionally. 

“Take this Cherity and do me a favour and bring me my trunk full of muggle clothes?”

Cherity squeaked, and bowed, “Yes, Master, right away!” she disappeared, and before Harry could move she reappeared with a grand brown oak trunk at her side. There were intricate designs along the top and the sides, and the clasps were silver. 

“Thank you, Cherity. Where’s your room Harry?” 

Harry almost cringed, “Well, my rooms not particularly much.” 

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” murmured Draco, as he had Cherity follow them with the trunk floating behind her. 

Harry led the way out of the kitchen and into the hallway. He wearily glanced at the cupboard under the stairs, and then turned to the left and scaled up the case, as Draco found himself poking into the normal muggle living room. “ _Hmm_.” Was his only comment, as he followed Harry up the steps. There were four doors. Harry lead him down to the end, where Draco spotted a door with about five locks on the outside and a cat flap at the bottom, that had not been taken out. 

“Harry-” said Draco slowly. 

Harry didn’t answer him, and pushed his door open to the pathetically small bedroom. It was boxed shape a small bed shoved in the corner, a broke down stand with a clock on top along with a couple books on Defence and Transfiguration. A cage sitting on top with, Harry’s white owl sleeping under her wing. There was a small desk at the end of the bed and a wardrobe at the end. Harry’s trunk lay flat open, still packed. The shelves in the room were lined with broken toys.

“S’not so bad.” said Harry, as Cherity came up behind Draco and squeaked in surprise of the bedroom. It was dusty and in disarray. 

“Not so bad? Are you kidding me?” asked Draco. “You have - a bloody cat flap at your door!” 

“Oye, at least they took the bars out.” declared Harry. Draco looked almost faint, as he leaned his head back and gazed around the room. Small and derelict. “Heh, make yourself comfortable.” Harry shrugged, and checked his clock. “I better get a shower, before _they_ come back.” Harry pulled the first thing out of his trunk; Draco watched him with his eyes, leave the room. 

Harry breathed in a sigh of relief, when splashing cold water burst from the shower head and drenched his exhausted body. He hissed sharply, and turned around twice, his whole being was so engrossed in the cold water, that he could not get a decent thought in about the teenager that was in his bedroom right now. What was going on? He thought to himself. Why was this happening? How did this happen? Was what he wanted to know. For some reason the fighting Draco and Harry had done in the last four almost five years didn’t seem to really matter any longer. All the quarrels they had seemed so - distant so - done with. He knew, that his first instinct should be, is to be paranoid, but for some reason, he could not be. 

He decided, that he would just go with this. His instinct was telling him, that this was a good thing. Sighing, he switched the water to hot and quickly showered, before turning off the taps and stepping out onto the tiled floor. He dried himself, and then he quickly dressed into a pair of oversized jeans with rips in the knees and a white blank t-shirt that was humongous. After making sure his hair was brushed and flat, he brushed his teeth and walked out of the bathroom back toward his room. 

When he entered he blinked twice, at his surroundings. He would have walked back out, thinking he had entered the wrong room if it hadn’t been for a certain blond sitting on a bed that was definitely not his own. The room had been literally transformed. It looked larger, but then it could just be the arrangement of furniture. His bed was in the middle of the room just underneath the window, there was about twenty four inches of space on each side. The shelves that had once been in his room had been removed and in its place was one armchair of scarlet with a footrest to match. Then on the side of Harry’s bed - or was it Harrys? Was a dark oak nightstand. Hedwig had her very own stand, and Harry’s trunk was at the foot of his bed. The floor was not hardwood floor any longer. It was carpet. There were two wardrobes at the end of the room; the old rickety desk that had been there was now replaced by a better desk. 

“I thought this place could use something different.” said Draco. He shrugged, “Not a big fan of scarlet, but I figure it’s not my room, it is yours.” 

“Whoa. Wow, uh - how did you do this?” 

Draco smirked, “Cherity. It’s nice having an elf around when one can’t do magic.” 

“I’ll say.” said Harry, “I - I almost thought I walked into the wrong room.” 

“Nope, this is yours. However, we’re not done yet.” 

“Wha-?” asked Harry, as Draco stood up and rubbed his hands together, 

“Strip.” Harry blinked, and stared at Draco like he had gone mad. “Go on! Take off your clothes, I need to know what size you wear.” 

“Er -” He blushed, and stared down at himself. 

“I can’t let you walk around like a street tramp.” said Draco, walking over to the door and closing it firmly. He turned and leaned against the door. “I’m waiting.” 

Harry’s cheeks flushed as he stared down at himself. 

“Come on, nothing I haven’t seen before. Well… _felt_ more like…” teased Draco; Harry was becoming more and more flushed, his cheeks resembled cherries, Draco found it amusing and - well - attractive. “Are you really that shy, Harry?” 

Harry cleared his throat, and looked down at himself, “Well - I - _er_ \- guess not.” 

Draco smirked, and crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t bite.” 

Harry arched an eyebrow, “Yeah, you do.” contradicted Harry, with a playful smile. “You could rival a vampire.” He touched his neck. 

Draco smirked, “Unless you want me too.” He raised his eyebrows, as Harry fingered the bottom of his shirt, and then he glanced up at Draco with a shy look. “Unless you really, _really_ want me too.” 

Harry felt his cheeks burn slightly as he braced himself and took his shirt off with a swift movement. 

Draco’s eyes raked over him, a very pleased look crossed the sixteen-year-olds face, as he watched Harry stand there in a shy position. Harry’s chest wasn’t concave like the shirts he wore made him look. At one time he had been before Quidditch had taken over his body, and now he had lean muscles along his small arms and a shape in his stomach, which was smooth and flat. There were a few scars on his arms, one particularly just above his wrist, as Draco walked over and reached out and grabbed his wrist and brought it up to him. “What happened?” There were also very faint traces of bite marks on Harry’s neck. Draco didn’t have to ask where _those_ came from. 

“Graveyard.” said Harry, staring down at it. “Voldemort stole my blood.” 

Draco suppressed his flinch, as he touched it lightly, with his finger, and then he dropped the teen’s wrist. The blond then circled Harry, and as he moved behind the boy, his fingers brushed against Harry’s hand and then grazed them along his sensitive skin, along his wrist, and arm, in gentle swipes, causing Harry’s skin to prickle and goose bumps formed, all the way up to his shoulder, Draco’s finger delicately moving the entire time. “You have scars.” whispered Draco, taking in the boy’s back. His finger glided over the scar that went downward from his shoulder blade. 

Harry shivered, and glanced over his shoulder, “That’s about two years old.” He said, barely above a whisper. He swallowed, as he felt the tips glide along his exposed back.

Draco’s hand moved caressingly Harry’s back, up and down. Harry’s eyes flickered closed, as he felt Draco move closer, until both hands were against his back and then they spread out, up and down the boy’s back before going up and sliding down the his arms. Harry shuddered again, but in a good way; Draco pressed his hands against each side of Harry’s shoulder, and pressed a kiss along Harry’s shoulder, making his eyes open instinctively. “I would say-” whispered Draco, into Harry’s ear. 

The teen being talked too breathed deeply and leaned into Draco’s hard chest. “You are my same waist size. However, your height, is about a head under me.” His breath was against Harry’s skin, making goose bumps slide along his exposed skin. It was the blazing summer and he was shivering, but not from being cold. He shivered - from a touch - a breath - a swipe. All of the above; something his body and mind was not used too. Harry looked down when he saw Draco’s hands move between his arms and around his waist, his fingers gliding serenely against Harry’s flat stomach. “I believe - _shopping_ is in order.” 

Harry almost whimpered in protest, when Draco kissed his neck and moved away from him, and stood in front, and assessed him, a glitter in his eyes, and his own face was flushed slightly, but his was not with embarrassment or of sheepish nature. Harry stared at him, rubbing his arm subconsciously. “I - I can’t leave Privet, I do not think.” 

“I know that.” said Draco, with a sly grin, as he flipped the tabs on his trunk and opened it. There were several compartments. One compartment full of shirts from tanks to dress shirts, all in a specially folded fashion so that they did not wrinkle. The next compartment was all trousers of some sort. Then his shoes, socks, etcetera. He however shifted the compartments to one where there was nothing but catalogs. He picked them up. “They’re brand new.” He flashed them to Harry, who blinked and took them. 

“I’m surprised, Draco.” said Harry, looking over them. “I mean - I always pegged you to be - a bit squeamish over muggle clothes.” 

Draco smirked, “Looks aren’t at all what they seem, my dear Harry…” His eyes traced Harry up and down. “Even, I know that.” 

Blushing, Harry backed up and sank down onto the bed, and realized just how comfortable it was. Still grinning Draco sat next to him. Harry instinctively pulled his legs up under him in Indian style, and placed a couple of the catalogs down, and began to thumb through them when he heard a car pull up outside. His head shot up, and he groaned aloud. 

“Relatives?” asked Draco, leaning up and peering out the window, straight down where the driveway was. 

“I hope they forget about me.” Mumbled Harry, as he stared down at the carpet paying no attention to the colour as he listened to the door being unlocked and then murmurs downstairs. Harry could hear stomping, and began to chew his bottom lip. 

He heard the steps, and he leaned up, his body stiffening. Draco shifted, and placed his hand against Harry’s knee, gripping it, trying very hard to relax the green-eyed teen. 

He could hear laughter from the bedroom, and made a face, “Dudley and his friends. _Argh_ , I hate them.” said Harry, shaking his head, and then thumbing through the catalogs. Loud music began to blare from the bedroom. The music was crude and so fast that he was sure no one could make out the words, except fuck every ten seconds. 

“Muggles.” Was the remark, Draco gave. 

Harry leaned over and grabbed his shirt, sliding it back on in fear of someone trying to come into his room. “Is my door locked?” 

“Yes, it is.” said Draco. 

Harry relaxed a bit, and went through the catalogs, quite a bit of clothes was catching his eye. “If I do get these clothes, Draco, the Dursleys would have a fit, and ask how I got them.” 

Draco arched an eyebrow, “Would you like me to take care of them? I’ll have them scared of you - in no time.” 

Harry laughed lightly, “I don’t know if that will work, Draco. Y’see, Uncle Vernon even stood up against Hagrid for a while. However _stupid_ , that was, he still did it.” 

“Well, then, looks like I’m going to have to be just a little more persuasive.” The teen grinned slyly. 

The Gryffindor stared at him, “W- what are you going to say?” The teen was finding it hard not to be attracted to the sly smile the opposite was giving him. Draco was very good looking and confident in his looks. Thought Harry, there was nothing else too it. 

“Nothing much. _Cherity?!_ ” he then called, a moment later the cute little elf, appeared in all her glory.

She bowed lowly and said at the same time, “Yes, Master Draco? You is calling Cherity?”

“Yes, I am going to need your help, since I can’t do magic, you’re going to have to do some for me.” 

Cherity squeaked and nodded furiously, “Yes, Master Draco, what do you need Cherity to do, sir?” 

“We have some muggles to deal with-” Was what he said, first and foremost, leaving Harry almost scared for the Dursleys. 

_Almost_ , being the keyword.


	4. Chapter Three

  
Author's notes: Alternative Universe: Dabbling a bit with the end of the fourth, and playing with the fifth. Harry is distraught over Cedric’s death, and someone walks in on him at a very vulnerable point in his life, and begins to take things into his own hands. (Summary bound to change later. (may go along with JK‘s storyline, except with a bit more life :P ) Harry/Draco. :P Prologue(replaced)  


* * *

**Chapter Three**

 

His mind was spinning, how the bloody hell, could Dumbledore do this to him? Draco could never understand. There were a thousand different wizards who would give anything to have had Harry as a baby and take care of him. He shook his head, he’d never know. Now, what course of action would he take? He glanced down at his elf, which was following him. He stopped at the top of the steps. He had half a mind to have Cherity torture the hell out of them. But, then, he thought about the look upon Harry’s face. He was much too caring, for people who didn’t even care for him. 

Maybe that was why; Draco found himself here every day. There was no one else like Harry. He was a different shade of colour all together. Not to mention the eyes made it impossible to get overly angry. 

_Awe, shit,_ thought Draco to himself. He had gone soft. 

Scaling the steps, he stopped at the threshold that leads into the lounge. He could hear strange noises like there was more than one person two people in the room and when he glanced in, he saw that a large fat man was staring at a …. moving screen full of colour and a tall skinny woman with too much neck reading a Wedding magazine that didn’t even move. 

_Muggles,_ thought Draco, with a dry look around the room. He looked to Cherity who was peaking in just around his legs. Placing on a blank expression, upon his face, and then he walked through. 

It took only a minute for Vernon Dursley and his wife to spot the intruder, Aunt Petunia screamed shrilly and Uncle Vernon jumped up, gnashing his teeth and ready for action. 

“Sit your flabby arse down.” commanded Draco coldly. His wand was out; Vernon drew back, and Petunia scurried to her husband and hid behind his massive form. “Good, both of you are quiet. Sit down.” 

They didn’t move. 

_“Sit down.”_ He hissed, and then with a sharp nod to Cherity, the elf flicked her fingers and the two went flying back and collapsed together onto the couch. Vernon Dursley almost crushing his wife, who had been behind him. 

Petunia stared at the little creature, who smiled pleasantly. Vernon was looking as if he had seen better days. A heart attack, Draco was sure of he would get in just a few short years, if he didn’t control his raging temper. 

“I do not believe we have ever met.” said Draco coolly, as he walked over, and sank down in an armchair just across from them and he crossed his leg. His hands draped across the dark leather. “My name is Draco Malfoy; I am a very, very close friend of Harry Potters.” The large man in the room glowered and was about to open his mouth when Draco lightly raised his wand, “Do you really, want to say something? Unlike, our dear Harry, I have absolutely no qualms in hexing you both until you are black and blue. However, Harry here, for some reason, wants me to leave you as - unharmed and undamaged as possible.” He sneered, “Consider yourself lucky. After what you’ve put your nephew through all these bloody years, he still wants to make sure you are safe.” he shrugged, “I’m a Slytherin, I don’t give a damn about others, unless its personal, and Harry, well, he’s as personal as you can get.” 

Draco could see that Vernon had a flicker of disgust in his eyes, while Petunia looked - er - curious? The wizard suddenly wondered if Aunt Petunia was a closet freak. It would certainly explain the tabloids that lay across her stand next to his armchair. “Anyway, I may not be allowed to perform magic, outside of my school, however, Cherity, my house-elf, would only be too happy to render the both of you incapable of walking, or talking-” He smiled again, as he saw Uncle Vernon sink back in against his couch.

Petunia Dursley’s hand was shaking as it stroked against the end fabric of her skirt, unconsciously. One of the many things people did when they were unnaturally nervous. 

“Now, I must make clear to you two of a few things that happen to be going on in the world today. You may not believe, that it will have any affect on you whatsoever, but believe me, it does,” He paused for a moment. In the back of his mind he was trying to get himself to say, the Dark Lord’s name without flinching. “Lord Voldemort is back.” 

Petunia’s head snapped up and her eyes got as round as snitches. Her face paled even more, while Vernon Dursley looked as if, the Dark Lord’s name was just - a toy figure you buy in shops. “Now, I know it means something to you, Petunia Dursley, but Vernon Dursley has yet to realize, just how bad it affects muggles.” He looked to the man, whose eyes narrowed. “You muggles are in far worse danger than we are. We have something to defend ourselves with you however do not. Your silly technology and weapons would do no harm to a monster that has been created in this particular wizard.”

Petunia Dursley swallowed, “I- Is he really back?” 

“Oh, yes, he is, and your dear nephew, that you both call freak, weird, and other disgusting names, while mistreating him, is the only reason your kind is alive.” 

“Our kind?” snarled Vernon Dursley. “What does he have to do with our kind?” 

“You not know?” asked Draco. “The Dark Lord, _hates_ muggles and muggleborn alike. He wants to rid the whole fucking world, of them. He wants to be in complete control, without one single magical human being left, unless they were used as whipping boys, fuck toys, and anything else you could think of that would be degrading and worse than taking your own life.” 

The two muggles exchanged quick looks. They were now a bit scared. 

“Your nephew is the only one who has ever stood up to him. He is the _only_ reason that both worlds have had piece for thirteen long years. He is the _only_ reason why people stopped dieing of strange causes. Gas explosions, bridge collapses. That’s not your everyday occurrence. That was our world, destroying what you have built. And it will resume once more.” He shrugged, “People around you are going to die. Personally, I really don’t care, what happens, but I was raised to hate muggles, I was raised to think, muggleborn were below me.” His eyebrow arched upwards, as he watched the scandalous looks on the Dursley’s face. 

“I’m only being honest. The only reason, I have to care, is because of him.” He pointed his wand to the ceiling. “I do not yet believe you understand just how dangerous he really is yet. I do not think, you have yet to grasp the concept of terror… maybe a demonstration would be wise?” 

Petunia and Vernon paled; no more colour was left on the large man’s face, for it was gone replaced by true fear. Draco arched an eyebrow. “Cherity? Would you retrieve my pensieve?” 

Cherity squeaked, disappeared, and reappeared not even a moment later. Draco gently placed the dull ceramic green basin upon the coffee table. The silver liquid folded along the edges of the pensieve swirling gently. “I use this quite often, but it is mainly my fathers.” said Draco, casually. “I will show you just a couple scenes, nothing incriminating mind you, but I will show you just what your dear nephew had to go through at the end of June, from my father’s point of view and then the return to Hogwarts which is my point of view. Hopefully, you will see - just how evil, Lord Voldemort is…” He tapped the basin, and looked at Cherity, “ _Take them._ ” He ordered his elf. 

Cherity snapped her fingers, and the two muggles went flying toward the basin and were sucked straight into it, and after a second, Draco followed. 

***

 

To Harry’s pouting displeasure, he was not allowed to go downstairs, for twenty minutes. Draco had changed into wizard robes and with his house elf; they walked out of the room and downstairs to face Harry’s relatives. The teen was a tad bit worried, about what Draco might do. How dangerous was he? Thought the teen, pacing the room. Draco had told him, to be marking off items of clothing that fit his taste, but he couldn’t, and as he tried to listen at the door, he got nothing. The blaring of music next door was obscuring Harry’s hearing of the downstairs. 

Harry really hoped Draco wasn’t torturing them. He would hate to see, what was going on but at the same time he wanted too see it. “HARRY!” called Draco’s voice from the steps. 

The teen didn’t hesitate; he ran out of the room, and to the top of the steps, to see Draco at the bottom leaning against the wall coolly, a vindictive smile on his face. “I believe your aunt and uncle want to speak to you.” 

Harry stared wearily at him, as he gripped the rail, “What did you do to them?” He asked, slowly. Draco gave him an innocent look. One that did not fit the Slytherin’s features. Harry scaled down the steps. “Innocent is my job, Draco. Don’t steal it.” 

Snorting with amusement, he inclined his head, “That is right, you are way too fucking innocent yet - you’re not. Well, enough of that - go on.” 

Harry walked into the living room and his eyebrows went upwards, when he saw both of the Dursleys standing there shaking in a line. Aunt Petunia looked about in tears, and Uncle Vernon looked as though he would have a heart attack as well as if he had seen better days. Dudley wasn’t down here.

“I’ll allow them to deal with the fat kid, cause of the muggles.” 

Uncle Vernon flinched, at Draco’s raw tone, and Aunt Petunia grimaced visibly. The word _deal_ coming from a wizard was not exactly comforting. The two of them had horror splashed across their faces, and Uncle Vernon, was nervous looking. This was new.

Harry looked too the Malfoy Heir, “….. Draco?” He said, warningly. 

“What?!” declared the Slytherin. “I only gave them a talking… _Cherity_ \- did most of the physical work.” 

“Physical? Draco!!” Harry should not be finding this funny, but the look on the Dursley’s faces and then Draco’s indignant look, was almost too much. 

“Oh don’t worry.” said Draco, waving his hand. “I did nothing illegal; I just knocked some sense into their puny brains, by showing them exactly the hell you‘ve had to go through, just by different point of views.” He looked at the Dursleys, with a cool look upon his face, “I believe, there is something you would like to say, to your nephew, who has kept your household safe from _our_ people all these years.” 

Harry looked from Draco and then to each of the Dursleys. Aunt Petunia was the first one to say, “I- I am sorry, Harry.” Harry? She called him Harry. Not boy or freak, like he was used too. “I - I really am.” Her eyes looked earnest. He wondered how good of an actress she was. 

The teen that was bemused looked at Draco and then back at Aunt Petunia. “Uh- okay?” Said the boy softly. 

Draco’s eyes narrowed on the massive man standing next to his bony wife, “ _Your_ turn, Vernon Dursley. You be a man and do what you are supposed to do.” 

Uncle Vernon looked as though he were about to have a heart attack, as he stared stiffly at Harry, “I - apologize.” His voice was swift and it hardly had any meaning. “For the remainder of your stay-” He cleared his throat, “We will leave you alone, we - will not -” He looked to Draco, who’s arched a crafted eyebrow. “F- Force you to do - any work for us, a- and we will no longer call you names.” 

Harry thought he was going to pass out. Was this for real? “Uhm, okay.” Harry’s voice was soft and unsure. He looked to Draco. “What did you do? You didn’t imperio them did you?” He asked, suspiciously. 

Uncle Vernon was looking sick, while Aunt Petunia was trying to stop her shaking. 

Draco laughed, “No, if I had, we’d have a whole team of Aurors here, and I‘d be hauled off to Azkaban, in a cell with my father. _No,_ I decided to take a more legal approach.” 

“What kind of approach did you do?” asked Harry, timidly. 

Draco grinned, “I - simply reminded them of who is back and that the only reason, that he hasn’t come calling is because you are living under this roof… and a few other reminders. But, otherwise, I didn’t touch a hair on their heads.” He said truthfully. 

“ _You_ didn’t, but what did _she_ do?” He said, pointing his thumb behind him at the house-elf, who was standing around, staring adoringly at Draco, waiting for her next command.

Draco laughed, “Nothing serious. I wouldn’t torture her that way. Come, on Harry, I am betting, you were so worried about these -” He looked disgusted at Harry’s relatives. “These relatives that you did not look over the catalogs like I asked.” 

“How do I know? You’re _unpredictable_.” 

Draco grinned, “Why thank you Harry. I was hoping someone would give me such compliment.” 

Harry gave his relatives a sorrowful look, before turning and heading back up the steps, as Draco followed. 

“You really, need clothes that flatter your figure.” said Draco, as Harry blushed while making it to his room. 

He looked over his shoulder at Draco, before entering his bedroom, and blinking in mild surprise at the transformation. Draco closed the door and locked it. Harry turned around, “Thanks, Draco.” He said sincerely. 

“I’d rather-” said Draco, sauntering over, brought his hand up and caressed Harry’s cheek, with the back of his fingers, “have you thank me in a more physical way, than verbal.” 

Harry feeling more confident than he had before, tilted his head, upward looking Draco in the face, “I can do physical.” He leaned up and pressed his lips gently against Dracos. 

Draco deepened the kiss, until his tongue was caressing Harry’s mouth, drinking in the sexually innocent teen. Harry’s lips went along with him, enjoying the sensuous and saturated flavour of one Draco Malfoy. When they parted, Draco pecked at Harry’s bottom lip, “Now that’s a thank you.” 

“You’re welcome.” Teased Harry, flicking Draco’s blond bangs out of his blue eyes. “Now, let’s see, what I like.” He said, breaking eye contact and plopping on the bed more comfortable than he had before. 

Draco lay across the teen’s bed on his side, “Bed better?” 

“ _Much._ ” said Harry, “Then again, the bed I had before could rival the floor in comfort.” He said, kicking off his shoes and crossing his legs. Draco handed Harry a quill, as he went through the catalogs. He soon shifted onto his stomach, next to Draco and flashed a couple items to the teen who gazed at it. 

“You have good taste.” Were most of his remarks. Draco had the side of his head against his palm, while his elbow was against the mattress. His hand was mostly to the side, unless it came up and brushed Harry’s black hair out of the way. 

“I’ve only ever been in London once or twice in my life.” He told Draco, thumbing through and circling the items he found tasteful. 

“You have black hair, long, so I think, you ought to get your ear pierced.” He brushed Harry’s hair back behind his ear, his thumb caressed the teen’s lobe. 

Harry enjoyed the touch, and looked at Draco, “How would I get that done, when I can’t go into London?” 

“I could do it.” 

“Er-” Harry looked at the teen warily. “Uhm, do you have any - experience in - ear piercing?” 

“Not really.” said Draco. “But, still, I think you’d look good. They have a piercing place in Diagon Alley.” 

“I don’t want to be stared at.” Harry said flatly.

“We’ll conceal your scar.” said Draco, simply. “Maybe those eyes too - _man_ them eyes are a dead give away.” His voice rising and lowering as he said this. 

Harry laughed, and looked down at the catalog that had reached the back. “I’m done with this one.” He told Draco, who lifted his hand and took it, while Harry opened a new one. 

For the next hour or so, they talked, while Harry went through each catalog. Cherity came by with dinner for the two of them and set up a small round table and two comfortable chairs to eat on. They ignored the blaring music from next door, as they ate and continued to talk. Harry didn’t feel surprised that the two had more in common than they originally thought. 

Although, Draco’s family was very wealthy, there was a lot of neglect that went on with his family. His father was more of a business man, trying to keep the Malfoy name famous and the reputation as upstanding as possible. His mother fawned over his father and if she wasn’t fawning over her husband then she was fawning over her appearance, with an endless supply of Cosmetic Potions. Draco told him, about being taken care of by Cherity, most of his life, except for accompanying his father on random bouts of business. 

“I’m sure he means well, though Draco.” said Harry, “He probably - just think that’s how a father’s supposed to be. A lot of people are old fashioned that way.” 

“I doubt it.” said Draco passively. “All he wants is to make sure that the name of Malfoy is upheld and the reputation stays in good with the rich and famous. Oh, and he wants me to produce an _heir_ before I die.” 

“I just pray that the Dursleys never produce anymore children.” said Harry, trying to divert the tense conversation a bit. He shuddered at the image, for added affect. 

Draco snorted, “Yeah - _really_.” He grinned. 

“Dudley is enough.” 

“From the pictures, looks as though Dudley can make up about five children.” 

“When it comes to mouths to feed? _Definitely_.” he said picking up a glazed carrot that was cooked. 

After they ate, Harry was sitting with his legs curled up under him, in the chair; Draco leaned back, assessing Harry’s body language. “Are you really this quiet?” 

Harry shook his head, “No, I’m not.” 

“I didn’t think so. You were always vocal and more - hardcore whenever you and I got into it. I guess, after Cedric Diggory’s death. It didn’t help matters, huh?” 

“Not really,” He said, quietly and looked away. “But, that’s not what’s captured my thoughts.” 

“What has then?” asked Draco, taking a drink of his pumpkin juice. 

“The night I was in the graveyard, my parents came out of Voldemort’s wand.” He admitted. He hadn’t told Ron or Hermione this. The only other person who knew was Sirius and Dumbledore. 

Draco nearly dropped his juice, but he caught it before it could slip from his grip, “What? You - seriously?” 

Harry nodded, “Yeah, I know they can’t come back. But, it was just weird; it reminded me of the Dementors.” 

Draco suddenly cringed visibly; his face had a flash of guilt and pain. “I’m sorry about that.” 

Harry shrugged, “S’all in the past.” 

Blue eyes blinked up at him, “But, I am sorry. I was a stupid, immature little bastard. I should not have done that to you. If you must know, those damn things freaked me out.” 

“They would anyone.” said Harry. “But, you never heard your parents being murdered.” 

Draco paled, and he adjusted himself in the chair, “That’s what you hear?” 

“Hmm, I heard them the night Voldemort, came to my house in Godric Hollow. I heard my dad‘s shout for my mum to run with me, and then I heard my mum plead for my life, she never pleaded for hers…” said Harry, his forehead wrinkling in remembrance. 

“But, why you Harry?” 

Harry shrugged, “I don’t know.” he said, with all honesty. “I have no unearthly idea, why Voldemort wanted to kill me, a baby who was not a threat to him. I could - see my mum and dad, they were probably high activists of the light - but _me_?” 

“It doesn’t make sense.” said Draco, “Didn’t you ask Dumbledore?” 

“I _did_ , he never answered.” 

“ _Figures_.” said Draco, swirling his drink in the goblet. 

“ _I_ figure, when Dumbledore is ready to tell me, he’ll tell me.” said Harry. “If there is one thing, I’ve learned about the Headmaster, all these years, is if he does not want to tell you something. You can’t talk him into it.” 

“Stubborn.” 

“Like us all.” 

Draco smiled at that. 

 

***

 

The sun blazed into the smallest bedroom in the house, of Privet Drive. He felt a hot breeze flutter in through the open window, and it ruffled against the sleeping figure’s body. There was a fan that revolved in the teen’s bedroom, so that it brushed against the teen’s chest and back. He was wearing nothing but a scarlet sheet on his lower half and a pair of black boxers. His cat black hair was everywhere. As he felt his body rise from the deepened sleep, in a very comfortable bed. As he shifted, the door eased open, and a blond made his way into the room, he had a very large black bag; he placed on the carpet, and then whispered, “Cherity?” The boy clad in green of emerald, waited for his elf to appear. 

When she did, she bowed and greeted him; he asked her to bring the new trunk, this trunk however wasn’t Draco’s, it was Harry’s with his clothes, and since Cherity couldn’t touch clothing without accidentally being set free, he had them stuffed into the trunk. What he had in his arms was simply a black bag for the rags that Harry was forced to wear. 

Draco opened the closets that were bare except for a few very ugly jumpers that were stashed inside of it. He pulled one out and immediately recognized it as a Weasley trademark jumper. Knowing better than throwing these away he pushed them far back in the closet. Just because they were keepsake didn’t mean he had to wear them. He busied himself with the clothes, as Harry slept on, or rustled under the sheet. 

When Harry shifted onto his back, he laid there with a deep breath through his nose and back out again. He felt too comfortable to wake. But, his mind was opening, and he could hear gentle movements sifting in and out of his sense of hearing. With his head to the side of the pillow, he opened his eyes. His green eyes met a blond teen’s back to his wardrobe. 

Is this a dream? Having someone with him on Privet Drive? _Dreams_. Thought Harry to himself, as he looked up at the ceiling. He had the oddest dream - strange really. It was as if he were racing down this darkened corridor with no light what so ever, and the corridors went about a thousand different ways, and while Harry kept trying to go straight he would run into a dead end. 

Very weird. Thought the teen, when he heard, “Waking, finally?” Teased Draco’s voice. 

Harry looked over, still laying down, “ _Trying_.” said the boy, groggily. He stifled a yawn and sat up. The light shined through, as he scratched his head, and his eyes slightly watering from the light of the sun. 

“Your clothes have arrived. Well, before I went home, I dropped the order forms off, and I only picked them up this morning.” 

“Time is it?” asked Harry, looking around for his clock. 

Draco pulled his pocket watch out of his khaki green trousers. “After ten.” 

“Really?” said Harry shocked. “I don’t sleep that late.” 

“Well you did. You must be hungry. _Cherity_?” The little elf popped in, and as soon as she did, he looked to Harry. 

“Anything, but eggs.” 

“Pancakes then?” 

“Fine.” said the teen, feeling sheepish. Draco gave Cherity the order, and then she popped away immediately. Harry shoved the covers down to his feet, and still yawned. “I’m not used to sleeping so late.” 

Draco smirked, “You have a whole new wardrobe.” 

Harry blinked, and noticed a new trunk. “Seems it.”

“I threw everything away, except them ugly jumpers.” said Draco, waving his hand. “Figured you’d want them. Just - don’t wear them.” 

Harry laughed, “Thanks, for keeping my Weasley jumpers. Everything else can burn.” 

“That’s what I figured.” 

Cherity came back with breakfast for Harry and a bright beam when he said thank you. Draco continued to pull things out of the trunk. “I can do that later,” insisted Harry, as he watched him from the bed. 

“Nah, it doesn’t bother me. I like doing it.” said Draco, with a sideways smile. “I still say, with your taste, your ear pierced should be - apart of your style.” 

Harry laughed, and took a drink of milk, “Maybe later. I don’t want to trust you with an earring gun.” 

Draco’s lip quirked, “That’s smart of you.” He insisted. Harry sniggered into his milk once again, Draco flashed him a look, “You have nightclothes and everything in here. You forgot about shoes and belts, so I went ahead and got those.” 

“Thank you Draco, you did, get it from my account right?” asked the teen suddenly, realizing this. 

Draco gave him a sideways smile, “Of course I did. Well, except the shoes and belts.” 

Harry licked the syrup off his thumb; as he heard the music from the stereo next to Harry’s room suddenly blast on. Draco and Harry exchanged glances of disgust. Harry shook his head, “I like music, but not _that_ kind of music.” 

“Really-” said Draco, shaking his head. “You can’t understand a damn word, except fuck this, fuck that, fuck you…” 

Laughing, Harry shook his head, “Personally, I like rock music, if I was to have the time.” 

“There are several muggle bands that are actually wizards.” said Draco, pulling more clothes out of the trunk. It seemed endless. 

When Harry was full, he put his plate up and crawled out of the bed, and stretched, as Draco arched an eyebrow, and watched him. Harry laughed shyly, and crossed his arms, before padding over to Draco, and peering into the trunk. 

“I’ve been at this for an hour - and now you’re distracting me.” 

Harry looked down at himself, and sniggered, “Well, give me something.” 

“Nah, I like the distraction.” He teased. 

Harry simply flashed him a sheepish look, “Never stood in front of anyone in my boxers before.”

“Really?” asked Draco, with a smirk. “Why not? With a body like that-’ 

Harry gushed, “I’m small.” 

“I know, but you’re also toned.” 

“From Quidditch. I used to not have anything.” 

“You’d still be cute.” 

Harry rolled his eyes, “Not with humongous round glasses and messy hair.” 

“Actually - you were.” said Draco, with a smirk. “Or - at least, I thought so. Your eyes though. It’s what got me.” 

Harry arched an eyebrow, “You hated me, you hated me more than Snape hated me.” 

Draco stopped messing with the clothes, “Only because I didn’t know you and because I couldn’t get my head out of my arse long enough to get to know you.” 

“Well, I didn’t help on my part.” said Harry, apologetically. 

“But, I started it. I’m mature enough to own up to my mistakes.” 

“Over me crying?” asked Harry, as he moved next to Draco, and helped him with the clothes. 

“Some of it.” admitted Draco. “But, also, over the events of the maze, when you came back with Cedric’s body, and you wouldn’t let it go, I was standing over you Harry. I saw your pain in your eyes, I saw the cuts on your body, and I saw all of it. I had been next to you and you hadn’t noticed. No one did. I saw your actions, I saw your movements, and I knew that I had been wrong all along and that you were probably more real, than anyone I have ever known. That is what made me approach you. I had no idea, I would walk in on you crying.” 

“I was just -” said Harry, swaying slightly on his heels. “So - distraught. I had people coming up to me, literally asking me some bold questions. Questions that I didn’t have answers too. Questions, I just couldn’t answer. I felt guilty.” 

“What for?” asked Draco. 

“For living when he did not.” said Harry, with honesty on his face. 

“Don’t say that.” said Draco, sternly. “Don’t say things like that.” 

“But, why, Draco? Why do I keep living?” He asked the blond. “By all life’s rights, by the way the gravity works - why do I keep on living? I was eleven years old, and I faced two wizards! I had no idea what I was doing; I hardly knew a defence spell! Yet, I overcame them?” He said, confusion on his face. “Then - if that wasn’t enough, the diary, the SNAKE? How did I, get rid of a basilisk? I was bloody twelve years old. That’s not possible!” 

Draco was listening to him, his eyes not leaving the boy, who was seriously concerned. “Then! Draco, if that wasn’t enough, I should have died last month!! There was no one around - I faced Voldemort, fully grown, back to his body, red eyes, bald head - snake face and all. A wizard who is - a thousand times more powerful than I will probably ever be. Deatheaters swarmed the place! And somehow- _something_ happens; the world shifts into my favour, and I get away with nothing more than a scratch on my arm.” he said, brushing it gently. “Draco? That isn’t normal.” 

“No, it’s not normal.” said Draco. “You have overcome the impossible. You are the PRINCE of impossibility. You are the impossible. You make things happen, without knowing it! You leave a mark, without knowing it. You left a mark on me!” declared Draco. “You left a mark on me, several times, and I’m not talking about physical. You have made me, _literally_ \- see the other side. You living so much against something so powerful and evil - that there is only one true option in this war, in my eyes! There is only one person who is so determined to overcome the impossible, that he doesn’t even know it. That, Harry, is YOU. You are the impossible. You ought to be proud of it. Not the fame, not the attention, but the fact, that you have a way of turning people’s eyes, mind, and heart around.” 

Harry was just standing frozen to the spot, staring at Draco, his heart beating, so furiously. He had not expected that. Draco’s words were so sincere and so - compassionate, that all Harry could do was move into him and press his cheek against Draco’s shoulder, his arms sliding around the blond’s body, seeking out comfort. Draco’s arms came up and locked around Harry’s small frame; he pressed his chin against the top of the Gryffindor’s black head. 

When he raised his head up, to Draco, lips kissed him deeply. The emotion behind it, strained against Harry’s heartstrings. 

“How unlikely is it that you and I are in this position?” asked Draco. 

_“Impossible.”_

“Yes, but with the Prince of Impossible, I believe, that the rules do not apply to you.” 

“It seems.” Was Harry’s reply before, kissing Draco wantonly. 

 

***

Standing in the bathroom, Harry gave himself a once over. He did not look like the puny boy with glasses. Instead, he looked - very good. He was wearing a clingy black short sleeved top and he had black low cut jeans, that were loose in certain areas, while fit his waist and arse very nicely. He had a black belt, and his hair was laying flat against his small shoulders, and it was doing a sort of flip, and it curved against his oval face. He was wearing nice cologne called CK One, and his shoes, were black, with a steel toe in them. 

He casually walked out, taking his bag with him, only to come face to face with a kid he had not seen since he was eleven-years-old, he had fell into a snake pit, with Harry’s cousin Dudley. The teen, could not have looked greasier, than he did at that very second. His hair was slicked back, coal black, and his eyes were narrowed like a rat, and dark. He was skinny and his face was shaped like an arrow head, with a long nose. He was taller than Harry; then again, everyone was taller than Harry. He was wearing a leather jacket over a white sleeveless shirt and black tight jeans. 

“Potter?” said Pier Polkiss, his voice full of surprise; his eyes then traced Harry up and down. “Haven’t grown much… _or_ have you?” 

_“Piss off.”_

“Ooh, such big words from a small boy like you. I wondered what you were looking like now. Still small, although, you have grown in some areas.” He reached out to Harry, invading the boy‘s space slightly, but the he evaded Pier swiftly. “Play hard to get, huh?” He teased. 

Almost horrified, Harry instinctively backed up, against his door; Pier shrugged, “Your loss, I’d like to sit and get to know you though.” 

Harry felt himself cringe inwardly, what the hell? “Not happening.” said Harry, coolly, when the door opened from behind him and Draco was standing there. Harry knew he could not strike at Pier, seeing as Harry was small and Pier was bigger, and magic was out of the question. He would be pulverized. He wasn’t egotistical enough to believe, he could take on a giraffe with no magical means. Draco standing there caused Harry to give an inward sigh of relief. 

Pier looked very startled; the blond’s blue eyes narrowed coldly, “Harry? You alright out here?” He asked, the smallest teen in the hall. 

“Who the _fuck_ are you?” asked Pier, snidely. “I didn’t think Potter had any friends.” 

Draco arched an eyebrow, and then his arm snaked around Harry, gently locking just under his neck. “He has more than friends, you greasy haired _twit_.” He sneered, haughtily. 

Harry leaned his back against Draco, overwhelming feelings taking him over. 

“So you say.” scowled Pier Polkiss, his glare still looming. 

Draco found it mildly amusing, “Yeah, I say, and don’t you forget it.” 

The door opened to Dudley’s room, and Harry could hear blasting base. “ _Man_! Pier, what the _fuck_ you doing out here, talking to my cousin?” He asked with disgust. “Get in here!” The room smelled very strongly of smoke and much more. 

Dudley’s eyes fell on Harry and his friend, and they widened marginally, either at the clothes, Harry’s look, Draco, or all of the above. 

Draco leaned into Harry whispering, “Let’s get back inside.” 

Harry nodded subconsciously, and looked up at him before turning and disappearing under Draco’s arm, leaving the teen to stare coldly at the muggles, before slamming the door. 

Harry leaned against the bed, as Draco turned, “You alright? There just muggles.” 

He tried not to flush, when Draco said this, he didn’t meet Draco’s pointed look, as he spoke, “Before, I knew I was a wizard, they made my life hell. I can’t do magic here, I’m _smaller_ than them. I don’t look very intimidating. I do not think, I can take on Dudley and Pier Polkiss on my own, without some - technical difficulties ensuing. My cousin Dudley, won‘t attack me, he‘s frightened of what I might do- but Pier has no idea, I‘m a wizard. I can‘t afford to get expelled, I may do accidental magic, I did it once before, when my Aunt Marge insulted my mum.”

Draco stood in front of Harry, brought his hands up and touched his cheeks cupping them in his hands, and then pushing the boy’s hair out of the way. Harry stared up at him, his facial features relaxed, against the gentle swipes of his companion‘s fingers. Draco’s mouth met Harry’s pouty lips in a sensuous massage. 

With his hand running up Draco’s chest, he innocently pulled him by the collar closer, until Draco and Harry collapsed on the bed; Harry on his back, and Draco directly on top of him, their mouths never parting. The tasting was spine tingling and so very sweet. Draco’s body pressed in desirously against Harrys; their hands clasped together, and Draco brought it up above the submissive teen’s head amorously. The kissing becoming more licentious, with the brushing, touching, and caressing licks, against the intimate skin. Going from heavy to light pecks, to air tight pressure, lip to lip, tongue to tongue. A passionate battle for control, and Harry allowing Draco to have the control, very - very willingly.


	5. Chapter Four

  
Author's notes: Alternative Universe: Dabbling a bit with the end of the fourth, and playing with the fifth. Harry is distraught over Cedric’s death, and someone walks in on him at a very vulnerable point in his life, and begins to take things into his own hands. (Summary bound to change later. (may go along with JK‘s storyline, except with a bit more life :P ) Harry/Draco. :P Prologue(replaced)  


* * *

Chapter Four

It never failed that every morning, Harry would be awaken by Draco’s movements or light brushes against the cheek. It had been the first summer of bliss on Privet Drive. The Dursleys, were not nasty, they ignored him, and apparently Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon warned Dudley, for he did not make any comments to the teen when they were in vicinity of one another. Aunt Petunia, was almost nice. 

Pier Polkiss however, was a different story. A couple of times, Harry had to keep his door locked, in fear of greasy rat trying to get in. It was a bit disconcerting, to know that some creepy teenager, wanted to rape him. When Draco wasn’t around, Harry was quite leery of leaving the room. 

The young teen received several letters from his friends, Ron and Hermione, but they seemed very spare and very - subtle. Even the letters from Sirius, didn’t have much in them, and it was kind of depressing to know that they didn’t seem to have any time for him. Ron and Hermione’s letter’s sounded as if they were together, and even Sirius’ sounded vaguely like theirs; that was depressing. He didn’t mind, not being with them, because Draco was a positive godsend. But, it kind of hurt, that their letters were so scrawny. Even Ron’s, which was usually chalk full of information that he and the twins had been doing over the summer holiday. 

Nothing was in the newspaper, at all about Voldemort. But it wasn’t until Draco showed him tiny articles with his or Dumbledore’s name slipped into it that he noticed, just what the Ministry had in mind for him and the Headmaster. Draco told him, that according to his father, the Minister was trying to discredit him and Dumbledore as much as possible. It was a bit unnerving to see his name slipped in during every day articles that had nothing to do with him. It was making Harry out to be an attention seeking little child, with Dumbledore as an old and bumbling baffoon. Harry was more upset over the discrediting of Dumbledore, rather than himself. All this babbling in the paper was getting him down. 

He sighed and threw it across the room, sick of looking at it. He sat there in Indian style on his bed, staring down at the scarlet floor. He was wearing camoflauge black and white trousers, they hung low against his hips and were baggy in the legs. He had a white tank top and a black unbutton shirt over it, to match. His hair was pulled back, a camoflauge bandana in his hair and he was wearing a silver necklace, which had been a gift from Draco, for his birthday gift. 

Harry’s dreams had become more and more peculiar, the locked doors, the continuous shuffling from corridor to corridor, that he did not recognize. He figured it was the trapped feeling. And if that wasn’t enough, then the most insane and bizarre things began to happen. While Draco was coming by, a little less through out the summer, because of his father. He had been all that kept Harry’s sanity in check. He was restless, and he wanted to get out and do something, but Draco had strongly suggested NOT to go outside, that according to his father, the Ministry were a threat to him, they would try anything to hush him up, no matter how cruel or deadly the means were. 

For a few days, Harry had listened, believing Draco had his best interests at heart, but then, the bottled frustrations of being confined overwhelmed him. He sat there, on his bed, glaring at the scarlet carpet. It was mid-afternoon, and Harry could feel the warm air breezing in cooling down the excessive heat that July had consummated. And now, here Harry was, sitting bored, not knowing if or when Draco would be arriving. With Dudley and his friends gone, Harry would like to take full advantage of going outside, without the fear of being frisked. 

Harry dropped his feet to the floor, and he stood and stretched, and huffed as he stared at Hedwig. “I’m tired of this.” He threw his hands up and dropped them carelessly to his side. 

He was about to leave for the heck of it, when Draco tapped once on the door and entered, he arched an eyebrow, when he saw Harry’s irritated look. “I’m sorry Harry.” said Draco, softly. The door was half cracked, and Draco stood just inside. 

Irritation splashed across the dark headed teen’s face he grumbled and adjusted the black and white bandana in his hair, “I’m leaving.” said Harry, “I’m sick of this, I’m sick of sitting in this room.” He jerked his hands up frustrated. 

“Harry, please!” Draco held out his hand trying to stop him, he walked in further, “You have - no idea - the lengths the Ministry would go too, just to keep your mouth shut.” Draco felt bad, for trying to keep Harry locked up, but he didn’t want anything to happen. 

He tried to get the emotions of his feelings on his face, but the teen was so vexed, that he paid absolutely no attention, and instead rolled his eyes, “I don’t care anymore!” declared Harry, “I’m sick of being - locked up like someone in Azkaban!” He began to pace, and he crossed his arms over his chest. His cheeks flushing in the process. 

Draco looked both ways, and out the window briefly, before glancing back to his partner, “If the Ministry gets a hold of you Harry, you might just end up there.” snapped Draco, testily. “You don’t want to go looking for trouble!” 

Harry’s head shot up, and he looked at Draco, almost warily. That was exactly, what Sirius Black had said in his letter to Harry, the other day. “Looking for trouble?” whispered Harry, “Why the hell would I look for trouble? I want to take a walk, smell the fresh air! Come on, Draco, I have been confined-” The teen had desperation in his voice, and his eyes were so intense, Draco looked away quickly. 

“Rather confined than killed!” retorted Draco, crossly. “Do you have any idea, the danger you’re putting yourself in?” He rubbed his jaw and then his cheek, trying to be patient with Harry. Draco couldn’t blame him, for being so upset. He would be too. 

“I’m not going to die by going on a walk!” Harry’s voice was rising, slightly. “All,I want to do is go outside - for a while!” 

“Please, Harry,” 

“No!” Harry shoved passed Draco, and scaled down the steps, he opened the front door, when Draco raced after him, ungracefully and then slammed the door shut, causing Harry’s eyes to narrow. 

“You can’t leave!” Draco exclaimed. “Harry, you cannot take the risk!” 

“Move Draco!” shouted Harry, “Let me out!” 

“No! I can’t do that. I am not going to be responsible -” 

“I’m not a two year old!!!” spat Harry, throwing his hands up. 

“No, you’re not! But you’re an underage wizard, who can’t do magic, outside of Hogwarts or in a muggle neighbourhood,” Draco stated, “if you go out there, and something happens -” 

Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had heard the commotion from the living room and were now watching, one with curious and the other with annoyance on his face, as he heard, wizard and magic, all in one sentence. 

“Bloody Hell, Draco, nothing is going to happen, now move it, or be moved!” 

Draco arched an eyebrow, “Really think you can move me without magic?” 

Harry screamed out in frustration, “If you - don’t let me out, I will do accidental magic! Ask them!” said Harry, pointing to his relatives. “What happened, the last time I got so angry at your sister, Uncle Vernon?” He looked to his uncle, who had gone as purple/red as a raddish. 

Uncle Vernon nodded vigorously, “They came! Those - others.” 

Desperate, Draco said softly, “Harry, please, listen to me.” 

“I’ve listened to you for a week now! I’ve been in my room day in and day out! I’m not doing it any longer. Move from the fucking door!” 

Draco stood there, and crossed his arms, “No, I can’t do that.” 

Harry gripped the door, as Draco leaned against it with his weight. “You really - want me to break this door?” asked Harry, scathingly. 

“I doubt you could.” said Draco, assessing him. 

“Wanna bet?” challenged Harry, through clenched teeth. He jerked, Draco, was moved slightly with the door. It opened halfway, only for Draco to come up and wrap his arms around Harry, to pull him away. 

“No.” snapped Draco, forcefully. 

Harry glared darkly at him, “Let go-” 

“No.” 

“Let go.” 

“No.” 

“Yes.” Harry’s voice had become so low. His brilliant green eyes glared up at him, Draco’s locked with his. 

Harry felt the blood pumping in his ears, and a throbbing sensation washed over him, almost as if his breathing was being restricted, and before Draco knew it, he jumped away, letting go of Harry, as if he had been zapped with something electric. 

Harry not giving it a thought, yanked the door and walked out, and took off, leaving Draco cursing. 

Just as it got dark, Harry found out just how very wrong he had been, and just how right Draco Malfoy really was. It really should not have come as a surprise , when the stars in the sky suddenly went black and a bitter coldness swept from the alley in Magnolia Crescent, and if getting attacked in the middle of the blackness by Dementors wasn't enough, then what really got bad, was the fact that his cousin was caught up into the middle of it and nearly killed. 

It had all happened in swift succession, the darkness, Dementor attack, patronus, Mrs. Figg, Privet Drive, Aunt Petunia; the infamous Howler, the Ministry of Magic expulsion letter, and then the next letter just five minutes after that telling him that he had to await trial. It was like a dream, a scary dream that seemed endless. The last thing he knew, was locking himself up into his room and pressing his back against the door and then sliding down to the floor like a puppet being let go from its string. He tucked his knees up to his chest, his face pale and the sweat pouring from his scalp. How he was able to carry Dudley from Magnolia to the house was beyond him, but he was drained of all energy, and all he could do was bow his head and press it against his knees, and murmured, "I'm so sorry Draco." He whispered, as he closed his eyes, and brought his hands up, he threw off the bandana, and wiped the sweat underneath it. 

He just had to go and be so stupid, didn't he? He had to ignore the warnings, Draco gave him. He had even tried to stop Harry, by force. That was how much Draco had really cared for his wellbeing, and now, here he was all alone feeling this empty darkness sweep his body, and a helplessness he had not had before. The image of being expelled washed across his mind and slipped down his body and chilled his heart. He shuddered, and swallowed the saliva that had built up in his mouth. 

He was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. All, because he wanted to get out for some fresh air. Why, didn't he listen to Draco? He could see Snape's face right now, and the dark arched eyebrow upwards into the greasy hairline. The condescending voice, the points, and then the abominable detention he would receive for stupidity. The letters that were left on his bed, he didn't need to open them. He didn't need to hear it from Ron and Hermione at the very moment. Especially, Hermione. Ron would just write a rehearsed letter, from Hermione's point of view, rather than his own. Sirius' words of comfort weren't as rehearsed however. He was the only one who knew what it was like to be held prisoner. To be locked up for something that you could not helped. At that moment he felt so very small. He felt weak and detached from his being. 

It took the rest of Harry's energy to move from his place on the floor to the furthest corner of the room. He remembered doing this inside of his cupboard, when he was a little boy. He'd scoot as far into the corner as he could and try to minimize himself from the world, and now - here he was, fifteen years old, sitting in the blackest corner of the room, his head against the wall and his eyes closed, desperately blocking the light of the moon outside. 

The stars had betrayed him tonight, the moon had lied to him and abandoned him in that alley with his defenceless cousin, and then - his worst fear was brought upon him like ice cold water showering the unsuspecting. 

Harry had been so enraptured with his thoughts, that he did not see the door opening, nor did he see Draco standing there, clad in wizard robes instead of muggle clothes. 

Draco looked around the room and it had only taken a second to find who he was looking for. He heaved a sigh, closed the door and walked over to the corner. He said nothing as he sank down next Harry. 

The smaller teenager jumped in surprise, having been wallowing in his shame, he had not even felt him sit down. Harry swallowed, “I’m sorry.” said Harry, quietly. Draco gave him a temperate look, while brushing his hair out of the way, slipping pieces behind his ears. He then wrapped his arms around Harry, pulling him close. 

He collapsed into his arms, clinging to Draco, for all it was worth. “I’m sick of being locked up!” He whispered desperately, fisting Draco‘s robes, “I’m sick of being detained, like a prisoner…” He began to cry gently, unable to help it any longer. His shoulder‘s shook, as his body was consumed with guilt and desolation.   
Draco tenderly rocked him, trying to calm the unhinged feeling that was claiming Harry‘s being. “I hate - ALL of this! If - it isn’t bad enough I - I’m l- locked up, I- its worse w- when your friends d- don’t even w- write properly.” All Draco could do was hold Harry, rock him, and stroke his dark hair. “I’m sorry, I yelled at you. I - I should have listened. I was just frustrated…” His voice cracked and his throat felt as if it were being rubbed with sandpaper. 

“I know you were.” whispered Draco, pressing his mouth against Harry‘s head. “I would be too in your situation.” He was so calm; 

Harry was surprised that Draco wasn’t giving him snide or cynical comments about how great of a job he did going out and doing exactly what he had feared. But, none came. 

“I - I never meant to - take my irritation out on you. I was stupid-” said Harry, moving his face from Draco’s robe. “You’ve done nothing but help me, and I just - slapped you in the face.” He shook his head, “I’m sorry.” His voice was full of shame. 

“Sssh.” Draco pressed his finger against Harry’s lips. “Don’t worry about that.” 

“But, I do.” said Harry, “I would have completely lost my sanity by now, had it not been for you. My friends don’t even write me - I’m stuck here - at least you are here, and I - I should have taken your warning more seriously. I - I was completely evil, to you.” 

“What’s done is done. Now, we have to prepare to get you out of this mess.” 

Harry haved a sigh, “This is so screwed up.” 

“It is.” said Draco. “The legal system is a fucking quack. To beat it, sometimes you have to stoop to their level.” 

“Not sure, if I can go so low.” 

“You may not be able too. But, I can.” 

Harry leaned back and looked up at him, “What do you mean by that?” 

Draco smiled, “You’ll see.” 

 

***

 

Now, here Harry sat, in this musky, dusty, and corrosively nasty house without Draco, staring out the window into the darkened night, while his two friends cringed, visibly. Hermione sporting sores on her finger, because of Hedwig, and Ron had a scar on his cheek from where Hedwig’s claws had dug into the Weasley teen. 

Harry wasn’t speaking, he was too angry and annoyed. He continued to listen to Hermione’s ramblings about how they weren’t allowed to put too much information into a letter. Blah, blah, blah. Harry however, wasn’t up for listening. Hermione was on the edge of tears. Ron was looking a bit worried, and trying to find something to lure Harry into a conversation with. 

He was too upset to yell, scream, and rant. He just - wanted too sit there, give them the silent treatment. It was so much worse. There was a distinct crack and Fred and George appeared in all their glory, and soon after Ginny appeared. 

Fred and George tried their hardest to get Harry to speak to them, but he only looked at them; Ginny sat next to Hermione, stroking Crookshanks and watching Harry, closely. 

“Harry, say anything!” begged Hermione. “I can’t stand this silent treatment.” 

“Oh, the silent treatment YOU gave me for a month?” asked Harry hotly. “You don’t like it do you?”

“They wouldn’t let us, Harry.” said Hermione, nearly in tears. 

“We couldn’t!” said Ron, “We were warned.” 

“Was your mother and father looking over your shoulder?” snapped Harry. “Since, when do YOU listen to directions?”

Fred grinned widely, “He has a point, Ronnikins, did you go Percy on us?” he teased.

Ron growled, “Don’t even associate me with that two faced bastard!” 

“What’s up with Percy?” asked Harry, suddenly. Grateful for a change of subject, Ron launched into the big squabble his parents and Percy had, over Harry and Dumbledore. “Geez and Percy was bloody Head Boy? How thick can he get?” Was Harry’s remark. 

“That’s what we say.” said George sitting on th bed. “He’s become quite the little bastard in the family.” 

“Making mum cry.” Fred scowled. “Pissing dad off! It’s HARD to piss dad off.” 

Ginny rolled her eyes, Percy needs to be attacked from all sides with a beater bat.” 

Hermione had kept out of it, because, well, she wasn’t a sibling, and Harry didn’t mention what he would like to do to the brother as well, out of respect. 

“Are you still mad.” asked Hermione timidly. 

“Yes, I’m mad! I’m pissed off.” scowled Harry. “Have you ever been locked up?” He snapped. “Have you ever, had to put up with three despicable relatives? I don’t know about you, but being locked up sucks.” 

“N- no, I’m sorry, Harry. It’s not our faults!” insisted Hermione. “We’ve been here! Cleaning, that’s it. While the Order has been downstairs.” 

“The Order?”

Fred answered for Hermione, “The Order of the Phoenix. Dumbledore created it, during the last reign of You Know Who.” 

“Only adults out of school are allowed to attend.” said George. “Which makes no sense.” Seeing Harry’s face, he added quickly, “I mean, you’ve done more than half them adults, and they still won’t let you in.” 

“I’m not surprised. They all want to hold onto the last of their dignity.” Mumbled Harry, leaning back against the chair. 

Harry felt unsettled. He really, really did not like what was going on, or how things were being worked. He hated it even more, when they all went downstairs, Sirius and Mrs. Weasley got into it, and finally, the little information Harry picked up wasn’t fit for anything, and it was all under the watchful glare of Mrs. Weasley.

Sirius had actually, been trying to talk to him, but the glares weren’t helping any. Harry just found himself leaning against Sirius, with a heaved sigh. 

He looked over at his godson sadly, and ran a hand over the boy’s small back. “You’ll be alright kid. You have luck, like no one else I’ve ever known.” He whispered to Harry, who looked up at him. 

“You’re the only one who knows what it feels like to be locked up.” 

Sirius nodded, “I asked them not to do that.” He said, with sincerity. “I asked them, not to lock you up, not to keep you confined to that muggle place, but no one ever listens to me.” 

“I know, Sirius. I’m not mad at you, I’m frustrated.” 

Sirius smiled and moved his arm and wrapped it around his godson, who scooted closer. “I know you are, Harry. I would be too.” 

There were people were watching them shrewdly. It was annoying. “Sirius?” He questioned. 

Sirius looked down, and then leaned over and whispered into the boy’s ear, “I didn’t quite agree with keeping you out of the loop of information. They think, I am going to spill the beans so to say.”

“Would you if I asked?” Pondered Harry, to Sirius. 

“With eyes like that?” asked Sirius. “How could I resist?” 

Harry laughed lightly, “Thank you, Sirius. I liked that answer.” 

“No problem.” 

***

Harry found himself unable to sleep that night, as he sat on the edge of his bed. Ron was out like a light, and Harry could have sworn something snickered in the blank portrait just opposite of his bed. He was wearing blue silk night pants and a white tank top. He stood, giving up, and made his way quietly out of the bedroom and into the rickety hallway. This place was creepy, thought Harry, mildly as he took the steps quietly. 

When he entered the kitchen, he stopped when he saw Remus Lupin and Sirius sitting there talking over a cup of tea. Well, Remus was drinking tea, Sirius was drinking Firewhisky. 

“Harry!” said Sirius, his eyes lighting up. 

“Hi, Harry.” said Remus’ gentle voice. 

“Hey.” said Harry, rubbing his arm unconsciously. 

“Couldn’t sleep? Come on, pull up a seat.” said Sirius, with a smile.

Smiling softly, Harry did just that. 

“There’s no Molly, here so -” The animagus flicked his wand, and a shot glass appeared in front of Harry, and Sirius poured him a glass of Firewhisky. 

“Sirius.” said Remus, in a slight warning tone, but his mouth had a smile on it, and his eyes glittered. “You really, think that’s wise?” 

“I don’t care. It’s Harry.” He seemed to stress, Harry’s name, as the teen stared at the amber liquid. 

“I’ve never had Firewhisky.” He said, curiously. 

“It’s good. Take down in one gulp.” 

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that…” said Remus, “That might burn his vocal cords.” 

“Nah, he’s a Potter. He can take it.” insisted Sirius, a grin on his face. 

Harry shrugged, “Here goes nohting.” he raised it to his lips and then, the next thing the two adults knew, he necked it all back. He coughed a moment, held his flaming mouth, and his eyes watered. “Holy shit.” 

Sirius barked with laughter, Remus grinned; “Now, you know why they call it Firewhisky.” drawled the werewolf

“No kiddin’?” Harry coughed, and breathed out. “Wow, that’s - kicking.” He said, licking his lips. It had a good taste to it though. “I like it.” He insisted; Sirius laughed, and poured him another. “Maybe, I’ll drink this one a bit slower.” 

Remus chuckled, and sipped at his tea. 

“Oh, I wanted to give you these.” said Sirius, flicking his wand. There were two letters on the table. “They arrived earlier, about an hour ago. I didn’t want anyone getting a hold of them and reading them, just in case they were private.” 

Harry saw Draco’s handwriting, and went for them immediately. The teen wasn’t exactly sure if he could trust Remus or Sirius, but he would rather Sirius get a hold of his letters than Molly or Moody. He ripped the letter open; 

Dear Harry, 

Hey, I’ve written to let you know, that everything will be fixed. You will not be expelled, and I don’t think a trial will be held, if we could help it. We Malfoys have a few things up our sleeves. I will be out of touch with you for a couple days. I have a few leads to check up on, and a couple people to see, anyway. I wanted you to stop worrying your pretty little head. Where are you? Are you safe? Your relatives said, that you had taken off with a group of wizards. I guess, they finally removed you. The only problem is, I miss you, now. I’m used to coming over every day, and I can’t do that. Cherity can’t even get to you, so it must be protected, in quite the way. I’ll be here, waiting for your reply. I don’t think, my mind will rest until I know you’re one hundred percent safe. From your own handwriting. I miss you, want you, and need you, Harry. 

Love,   
Draco

 

Harry smiled, feeling his heart flutter, as he gently closed the letter, and glanced up to see both adults staring curiously. “Just a friend.” 

“Oh? Looks like more than just a friend, from the look on your face.” teased Sirius. “Who’ve you been seeing?”

The teen blushed, “I- I you wouldn’t understand.” He insisted, laying it flat on the table. “My friends wouldn’t even understand.” he added more ruefully.

“Ooh, a mystery.” said Sirius, looking gleeful. “Harry has a mystery lover Remus.” 

“So it seems.” said Remus with amusement. “Why wouldn’t we understand?” 

“It’s unorthodox.” He didn’t know why he was telling these two, so much information. He glanced over his shoulder at the door instinctively. “Not many people would approve of it.” Sirius and Remus exchanged looks, of amusement. “People, would even go so far as to think, that I’ve been douced with a love potion or something. But, that’s anything but the truth.” 

“Who is it?” asked Remus, his werewolf curiosity peaked. “We won’t say a word.” 

Just as Harry‘s blush had been receeding it came back, “I- I don’t know, if I should say. You’ll both get bright ideas.” 

“How do you know?” asked Sirius. “You don’t hardly know us. Maybe its time we all got together, without Molly Weasley and the others, and know each other.” 

That was true, Harry did not know Sirius or Remus, and they were the last link to his parents. “I’d like that.” 

“Well, tell us!” said Remus. 

Harry gushed, “Uhm, it’s a boy.” he said, for starters. 

Remus and Sirius exchanged glances, they grinned, and looked back at Harry, “What’s so bad about that?” asked Sirius, cheerfully. 

“Well, I don’t know about the magical world, but in the muggle world its kind of strange for people to see that.” 

“No, not here, it’s as normal as night and day. Most of your witches and wizards have no preferrance.” said Remus. “It’s always been that way.” 

“Oh, that’s good.” said Harry, mild relief showing upon his face.

“Take Remus, and I for instance.” Remus blushed at the words of Sirius. “We’re not just friends, you know.” 

Harry laughed at this, and Remus cleared his throat, “We’re not talking about us Sirius.” 

“Why not?” asked Harry, with a smile. “I need to get to know you two. I only know the professor side of you, Remus. I daresay that‘s not enough.” 

Remus smiled, “You can Harry.” He said, with honesty. “It was my fault before. I have a fear of rejection.” 

“Don’t we all?” Remarked Harry. 

Sirius cleared, his throat, “Okay, okay, Harry, who are you seeing?”

“Seriously, you wouldn’t approve of it. Ron would think I was a nutter, and Hermione well - I don’t know how she would take it. She’s weird.” 

“Is it that controversial?” asked Remus, arching an eyebrow. “Okay, if its so - strange, then tell us, how did it begin, with this said boy?” 

Harry could do that. “Well, it was a couple nights after Cedric’s death and everything. I was feeling particularly up in the air, and I was in the trophy room, staring at Cedric’s plaque. I won’t lie, I blamed myself, so bad for it all. I started crying - I couldn’t help it. People around me, coming up to me, asking me questions a couple looking at me, as if I’m a murderer. I just - I couldn’t handle it.” Harry had a distant look on his face.

Sirius’ arm went around Harry, and pulled him closer. Harry took a soft breath and then said, “I was there, and then - in comes the last person in the world, I expected. He really was, I wasn’t paying attention to whom it was, I was that distraught, and I literally cried on him - until I realized, that I did not recognize the smell. I looked up and I saw him there - it was a surreal second. It was something that should not have occurred, but it did. One thing lead to another and we - er - sort of got a little physical.” Sirius grinned widely, as Remus smiled delicately at him. Harry was flaming in the cheeks. “I’d never - experienced that before, and I couldn’t believe it was with HIM, of all people. After that- I - I figured, y’know, it would just be a one time, desperate moment thing? But, it wasn’t. We’d made a few eye contacts, but not talking, because - well - we just didn’t associate like that, in past unless we were attacking one another. Then he sent me a letter about a day before the Hogwart’s Express, telling me not to forget. I went - back to the Dursleys. He came to the Dursleys.” Harry felt himself smile. A true smile. It had been the only time, he was ever happy on Privet Drive.

Eyebrows went upwards, “Did he really?” 

“Yeah, he was livid at the arrangements. I was still a bit - baffled mind you, because this wasn’t a regular occurance. But, we just - I don’t know, talked and talked some more until it became comfortable and relaxed. He has spent over half the summer with me.” He sighed, and looked down, “He warned me- he told me that the Ministry would do anything to hush me up.” 

Remus and Sirius exchanged looks. 

“He told me, to stay inside the house. I got a bit - er - mad at him, I sort of lashed out at him, cause of my frustrations. I didn’t listen to him, and - well - look what happened.” He murmured, “Worthy of a Snape kick in the arse.” He took the dark red liquid and swallowed it in one gulp, he grimaced visibly from the taste, and felt his throat and stomach burning.

“How did he know?” asked Remus. 

“His father, has thick ties in the Ministry. His father isn’t exactly on my favorites list.” 

“Now - you have me bubbling with curiosity.” said Sirius, hardly able to stay seated, “Who? Is it?” 

For a moment Harry hesitated, “D- Draco Malfoy.” The name sent a shiver up Harry’s spine, and he closed his eyes for one moment to picture his face. When he did, he found himself smiling on the inside. 

A thick pregnant pause settled in and Harry found himself unable to look up. “Holy, shit! My godson is in a scandal of the year!!!” Whooped Sirius Black, with a large grin on his face. 

Harry’s head shot up and he saw that Sirius looked gleeful and Remus, looked amused. “Y- you mean you’re not freaked out?”

Sirius was dancing around with an exultant expression, “Hell no! This is wicked! This is the best story I’ve heard since, that little Longbottom kid made a boggart Snape wear his grannies clothes. Scandal baby! I want to be around to see it!” 

Remus chuckled, “Sirius-” He gave his partner a look, before glancing at Harry. “Are you serious about him?”

Sirius laughed, “Of course he is! Why wouldn’t he be!” 

“I wasn’t asking you.” said Remus, dryly.

“Sure you were! You said my name.” 

Harry sniggered with amusement, as Remus rolled his eyes and looked to Harry, 

He nodded, “I think so. You’d have to see Draco’s personality with me, to understand.” 

Remus smiled, “I’m not going to say anything out of the way.” He said, kindly. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” 

“Really, and if there is one thing that has taught me never to judge a person based upon! It’s the family. Look at my family!” said Sirius, waving his hand around. “They were dark, nasty, creepy, and Deatheater material, hell even my little brother Regulus became a Deatheater.” 

“He did?” asked Harry shocked. 

“Oh yeah, when he was about fifteen or sixteen. Got in way over his head, did he? Whew.” 

“What happened?” 

“He was killed. Tried to get out of Voldemort‘s services. Well, you don‘t just walk up to the bastard and hand in your two week notice. You can get in, but going out means sacrificing your life.” 

“Technically, once a Deatheater, always a Deatheater.” Remus told Harry. “It’s like muggle gangs.” 

Harry looked at Sirius, “I’m sorry, I had no idea, this was even your house.” 

“Yeh.” said Sirius darkly. “It’s the only thing I could offer to the Order, since my head is on the chopping block on all bloody sides. The Deatheaters know about me being an animagus, now that Wormtail is with them and there’s a fifty thousand galleon prize upon my head, for the capture of me.” Harry leaned into Sirius and pressed his head against his chest. Sirius rubbed his arm affectionately. “So you and a Malfoy? Wow!” 

Harry blushed, “Believe me, it wasn’t planned.” 

“Nothing ever is, Harry.” reminded Remus. 

“I don’t know, I - I need Draco.” said Harry, quietly. “He’s something, I never had, or never thought of having. I mean - it’s - strange.” 

“You don’t have to explain.” said Remus, gently. 

“Yeah, he does!” said Sirius, eagerly. “I have to live through SOMEONE. Might as well be my gorgeous godson!!” 

Harry laughed, and looked up at his godfather and kissed him on the cheek. “Draco, made me get a whole new wardrobe. He also did something to my relatives, still not sure what but, its to the point where they were amiable.” 

“Really?” said Remus, his eyes glittering, as Sirius clapped his hands. 

“I’d like to have seen their look.” crowed Sirius, with a grin. “I think, I could like this Draco Malfoy. Malfoy, he is, but he sounds worthy of my acceptance.” 

“Yeah, he made sure that they wouldn’t bother me again or make me work out in the garden when it was scorching outside.” said Harry, and then smiled, “Draco is for real. Believe me, out of all the fights we’ve had over the years, I can tell when he’s a fake and when he’s not. This side of Draco, I doubt even his friends have seen. He said, his father is letting him choose his own path. In a lot of way’s we’re a like.” 

“Harry, you’ve always had good judgement.” said Remus, “I may not have known you as well as I would have liked, but I have always known that your judgement has always been good about people. You give people chances, just like Dumbledore does, you let people get to know you and you forgive. I believe, we can accept your word on it, Harry and hold it true.” 

Sirius nodded, “That’s right. Unlike Molly, we do not believe you as a child. You’re a teenager - yes - but you’re no longer a child. You haven’t been since you faced Lord Voldemort for the first time in your life. I believe, plenty of adults tend to forget that. There are a lot of rules that do not apply to you, Harry.” 

“Draco told me, I’m the Prince of Impossible.” 

Remus smiled, “You very well are. The King of Impossible doesn’t possess a human form.”

Harry could only smile, feeling relief swim over him. At least someone was on his side, two someones. Someones, he would like to get to know better. He got up and he hugged both Remus and Sirius, before declaring he was finally tired enough to get a little sleep. 

Remus patted him on the small of his back, “Good night, Harry.” 

“Night Remus, night Sirius!”


	6. Chapter Five

  
Author's notes: Alternative Universe: Dabbling a bit with the end of the fourth, and playing with the fifth. Harry is distraught over Cedric’s death, and someone walks in on him at a very vulnerable point in his life, and begins to take things into his own hands. (Summary bound to change later. (may go along with JK‘s storyline, except with a bit more life :P ) Harry/Draco. :P Prologue(replaced)  


* * *

Chapter Five

 

The fire grate spun brilliant shades of vivid green, with the grace of a Malfoy, Draco folded out perfectly from the base of the fireplace, not a hair out of place or a wrinkle in his fine robes of silk black, with silver along the edge of the fabric. He stood there in the cool and dimly lit pub, and stared shrewdly around. His eyes flashed over faces briefly, sometimes stopping longer on certain wizards and witches. After a quick look to all the private booths, and when he saw nothing or no one out of the ordinary, he stepped forward satisfied, toward the private booths, which had their own cast iron doors and a tiny little window just large enough for one to see out. With his robes swaying behind him, it was really quite rare, that Draco was out by himself without his two friends, to make sure no one started anything, and instead, they were at Malfoy Manor, in his intimate corridors, waiting on his or Cherity's message. If Skeeter had everything he needed, he would need a few more hands and eyes to go through these particular documents. They would have no idea why he needed them, but then again, Crabbe and Goyle never asked questions. He debated on getting a hold of Blaise. He knew, his best friend would help, even if he did ask a million and one questions. 

When he got to the back booth, he opened the iron door, and stepped into the booth, only to find the presence of one Rita Skeeter, sitting at the table, drinking tea. Her curly blonde hair was up in a messy clip and her nails were chipped something terrible. He had a feeling; this had something to do with Hermione Granger and her hold over the reporter, who had been found out to be an animagus. She had black rimmed glasses over her blue eyes. 

"Ms. Skeeter?" said Draco's voice coolly. 

She looked up, "Ah, Mr. Malfoy." she gave him as cheery of a smile as possible, as she held out her hand, slender hand. 

They shook, and he sank down opposite of her, adjusting his robes, while doing so. Tom came bustling over, entered the private booth. 

“What will it be Mr. Malfoy?” He said, pleasantly. 

Draco simply ordered a gillywater and waited for the man to come back with it and leave before he began. 

"Cherity?" said Draco, out loud. 

When she appeared, she bowed gracefully, and beamed at him. "Silence the door." Cherity squeaked and did as she was told; with a snap of her fingers it was silenced. "Thank you." He gave her a sharp nod. 

Cherity bowed and disappeared, leaving Rita to give him a small smile, "I was surprised to receive your urgent owl. I had no idea, that I would be in touch with you ever again, but as it is, what is it that you are wanting from me, Mr. Malfoy?" she asked, in an amiable voice. 

Draco's eyes flickered over to her, and for a moment, he thought about using her illegal animagi against her. However, Hermione Granger already had that over her head. Instead, he pulled out a dark purple money sack with a gold string wrapped tightly around the expanding cloth. He placed it on the table right between the two of them.

She stared at it, her eyes glittering suddenly, "W- what do you need?" She said, hungrily. 

Perfect, though Draco. She was desperate. "Every file you own on one Cornelius Fudge, and with those files, I mean from school, school friends, right down to his favourite dessert." He nudged his money sack. 

She stared at it, "That's a lot of information," she said, slowly, "how much?" 

"20,000." He really had fifty thousand in gold on him, if he really needed it, but he doubted it, seeing the shape she was in, from the lack of slandering the famous. 

"When do you want them?" 

"I need them in confidence. No one is to know, that I am using these. I'll throw in five thousand more," he said, casually, "For a Secrecy Charm, overlooked by house elf." He arched an eyebrow, waiting for her answer.

"You have yourself a deal Mr. Malfoy." she said nearly breathless. 

"That's not all." said Draco, slowly. "I also, need information on the people around him, who are the absolute closest, including his dear wife and children." 

She smirked, "That's all included." she told him. 

"Good. If I need you..." 

"I will be at your assistance." said Rita Skeeter, swiftly. "Shall we meet in two hours? I have a special room full of Ministry files." 

Draco gave her a nod for his answer, before taking a long drink of gillywater. Well, if there are five crates, he would definitely need Blaise's help. 

 

Eighteen hours of no sleep, continuous cups of coffee and tranquilizing potions later, Draco had sitting in front of his study desk a list of names, people, their places, and their association with Fudge. Crabbe and Goyle had passed out in the guest rooms and Blaise was fast asleep on his leather loveseat, feet draped over the arm, and his mouth open snoring very ungracefully. 

Dark rings wrapped around his blue eyes, as he rubbed his forehead and flipped open the information that he had narrowed down. Anything, that had sounded fishy, he pulled, anything that sounded like anything but a future Minister was also pulled and placed in front of his desk, that was now in complete disarray. Scratching his head, he shook his head and flipped over to one file. Helix Hudson. 

One of Fudge's best friends, from first year onward. Fudge, was not a Hufflepuff, like Draco had suspected and he wasn't a Slytherin either. He was a Ravenclaw, made Prefect and Head Boy. But, that was just all simple facts, nothing suspicious. However, what was suspicious was this particular friend, who was now residing in St. Mungo's on the exact same ward that the Longbottoms were stationed, and another suspicious thing, was Cornelius Fudge's other two school friends from Hogwart's both died that same year, of mysterious causes. 

This was worth looking over. But, only after he had a few hours of rest. He wouldn't be able to think properly if he didn't. He sank back and slouched like Harry would do. A simple but tired smile swept across his features, as he thought of Harry. 

He couldn't get mad at him. He didn't know what it was, but there was something about Harry, that just would not allow Draco to get upset. He should have been steamed, at Harry getting attacked by Dementors and nearly killed, when he had warned him time and time again. Draco had every intention on going into that small bedroom, and chewing him out. Not only did, Harry scare the hell out of him, but he also put his life in danger. He knew, Harry was restless, tired of being confined. Hell, he would be too. But, that didn't escape the fact, that Draco nearly had a heart attack over him. 

Then, Draco saw it. The very thing that made his heart jerk and pump more vigorously. He saw Harry in a corner, looking guilty and helpless. It wasn't exactly a sight, Draco could lash out on, and so instead, his heart melted, and he had no choice but to sink down and wrap his arms around Harry. 

Draco felt himself wake up just a bit, at the memory. He had asked himself time and time again, how'd this happen? Draco was not a mellow person. Someone do something stupid, he was going to point it out, even Blaise, he'd make his best friend out to be a laughing stock if it the mood was right. But, with Harry, he couldn't do that. Was it, because he had already been through so much? With no help from his own self, of course. Draco in the previous years made his life a living hell. All to gain what? Nothing. 

Draco refused to be stupid any longer, he refused to stand behind his father, and become an ideal model. One thing as a father, that Lucius Malfoy had done right by him was allow him to take his own path. He knew that the Dark Lord wouldn't like it, but if anything, Lucius Malfoy would simply say, 'I've disowned him.' That would be enough for the Dark Lord, Draco supposed. 

Stifling another yawn, this one so large that tears of exhaustion drained out of his eyes, he shook his head, and felt his jaw stiffen. Enough, intense thinking, at four in the morning, thought Draco staring at his pocket watch.

After only five hours of rest, Draco was up again. This time however, he was not going to do research, instead, he would be making a stop at Helix Hudson's relatives, and try and persuade them to sign a slip that he could speak with Helix Hudson. But, first, he would have to inquire that the man was still alive. 

 

To Draco's surprise, none of this took longer than two hours. The Hudson's, which consisted of Helix's mother, Ruthann and Helix's younger sister Esmeralda, were very happy to talk about the good qualities that Helix Hudson had possessed, and about how talented and smart he was. Always wanting to be a photographer, ever since he was six years old. 

Then Draco charmed them, before asking about meeting with him and talking to him in private. The two had been so captivated by Draco's charisma that they immediately granted him permission. Soon after, Draco made his way to St. Mungos. 

As soon as the nurses allowed him access to the corridors in which Helix Hudson was stationed upon, the teen saw him. He was definitely older and more care worn, but it was him. The school picture of Helix Hudson was a teen of great looks. He had flighty straw coloured blonde hair and a boyish face. His eyes were the colour of chestnut and he had a carefree looking disposition. He was thin, with squared off shoulders, and he slouched just a bit. 

This, Helix Hudson was none of the above except for the eyes and hair. His face was round, and although he was skinny, his body had taken on a boxed shape, due to the lack of exercise and being confined to one bedroom all his life. He was wearing light blue pyjamas, with the bottom three buttons ripped off, and white strings hanging down from where they had at once been attached. His hair, while straw colour, had grey at the roots, and it spread around like someone had dumped cigarette ashes in his hair. He was glistening pale, more than him and more than even Harry. His face looked twice what it ought to be. 

The nurse smiled and left him alone. The door closed, and the man didn't move.

"Mr. Hudson?" said Draco, in a low tone. 

The man jerked, and he stared upwards, his eyes widen, when he saw Draco, "You?" 

"I am a friend of your mothers?" tried Draco, unsure of how to go about this, as he took two steps closer. 

"Mummy." he breathed, looking up with innocent eyes. "Pictures!" He then said, pointing. 

Draco looked over his shoulder, where pictures had been taken and then placed into the Potion Dye, they were moving and in bright colours. "That's amazing." said Draco, pretending to be full of interest. "Did you do that?" 

"Pictures!" he said again and pointed. 

Draco nodded, "Who are they?" 

Helix frowned, and looked down like a little boy would and he began to play with his shirt. He shrugged. 

Draco walked over and pulled up a seat, "Are those from your old home?" 

"Home?" Whispered Helix, raising his head. "Mummy, home, pictures." He stared far off. 

"Helix?" 

Helix Hudson turned his head, and stared at Draco, "Me!" He said, holding up his hand, like a child would in primary class. 

Here it was, thought Draco, as he pulled the bag he had been carrying and pulled out a white tin. "Fudge?" Offered Draco, pulling it back and exposing the chocolate pieces. 

Helix froze. His dark eyes had deep concentration on it, as if he was remembering something. Draco arched an eyebrow, "Fudge?" He repeated, gently. 

"Bad!" Helix spluttered, "Bad, bad!" 

"What?" asked Draco, glancing over his shoulder, to see three nurses standing by in case one or the other was to get violent. "What's bad, Helix?" asked Draco, in the most careful voice he could muster. 

"Fudge." He said, staring blankly at the tin. "Pictures." 

Draco leaned back, "Pictures? Those pictures?" he pointed, behind him. 

"Birdie!" He said pointing behind him, to a large Raven picture. 

Draco arched an eyebrow, "Raven? Fudge?" 

Helix nodded, "Fudge! bad, bad!" he quailed. 

"Okay," Draco studied the portrait behind Helix for several long moments. It was ordinary, in a silver frame with black onyx gems, and in the middle was a glorious raven, with grand feathered wings and behind it many colours from random potion dyes, of blue, yellow, green, and red. The dyes were swirling around the flapping fowl. 

It was a beautiful photograph, and it looked more like a moving painting than a photo, except for the gloss over it. Was he saying, that Fudge was a Ravenclaw, and he was bad? He knew, Fudge was a Ravenclaw, but why was he bad?

Then as though the answer was staring him in the face, he stood up, and casually walked past Helix and to the large Raven photograph. "Beautiful picture." Said Draco, as Helix began snacking on the fudge, Draco had brought. 

Helix turned, chocolate all over his face, “Picture!” He pointed. “Birdie! Secret.” 

Secret? Draco’s eyebrows arched, and he crossed his arms, as he stared at it, narrowing his blue eyes up at the image on the wall. What was secret about it? His eyes went up along the edge of the frame and then down to the bottom and then to the side and that was where he saw it. A glint of gold sticking up from behind the frame. You’d never notice it because the colour yellow was in the background; with one look over his shoulder to the glass door, he reached his fingers in, and pulled out a gold key. It had two little teeth, and was very small, had to have been specially made. 

Now this, was something. But what did it go too? 

Draco turned, and held out the key and showed it to Helix, who had finished half the tin, however, Draco wondered just how much of it made it into his mouth. 

“Bad!” he pointed. “Bad, bad!” His face screwed up suddenly, and he looked down at the ground, he looked like he was trying hard to remember. “Oooh.” he said, tapping his mouth. He giggled to himself, his mind suddenly going from concentration back to his mental state; he placed the tin of chocolates down and ran over to his little bed, barefoot. He had a giddy look upon his face. 

Draco followed, and saw that he was now on the floor and had pulled out a stuffed animal. This stuffed animal was a Hogwart’s bear. It was all blue, and it had a t-shirt with a raven on it and then across its neck and arm was, ‘Head Prefect - Helix Hudson.’ 

“Pressie!” said Helix, holding out the bear. “Pressie.”

Draco reached out for the bear, and took it. It was soft, of course, but what was the significance of this teddy bear. Instinctively, he ran his hand up and down the body of the bear, 

“Soft!” declared Helix, with a smile. 

“Yeah, very soft.” Draco turned it over and then ran his hand up and down the head and then he stopped when he reached the neck, he felt a very small hole. Upon further inspection, he noticed that the gold key would fit. Draco looked up to see Helix bouncing on the balls of his heels. He looked over at the chocolate, “Chocolate!” He said, blandly. 

The man ran back over at that, leaving Draco to the stuffed animal. With his back turned to the door, he delicately inserted the key. He twisted it, and surprisingly enough the bear’s neck opened up, but instead of meeting white fuzz, he met a white envelope packet. He reached in and pulled the white packet out, locking the bear he placed it on the bed. Draco glanced at the door for the thousandth time, the ladies were laughing and talking with one another, not even paying attention to Draco, who pulled along the sticky top; he reached in and pulled some photos out, this he was sure of, the smell and the way they felt. When he did, he met a white sheet of paper, and behind that paper, was something that made Draco’s mouth fall flat open. 

“Holy fuckin’ shit!” He breathed. 

The answer had become so clear, as to why, Fudge’s friends were dead, all but this one.


	7. Chapter Seven

Chapter Six

 

Draco Malfoy held the key to Cornelius Fudge’s downfall. He sat there, in his cozy study room, which was black and deep green, with cherry wood furnishings. There were no portraits of people on the wall. Draco rather liked his privacy, rather than a bunch of wizards or witches staring at him with their painted eyes. He revolved twice in the comfortable leather desk chair. Part of him was overwhelmed with glee, while the other part of him, cringed just staring at the photographs. How did he ever accomplish this? Draco wanted to know. Sitting idly upon Draco Malfoy’s desk was about twenty snap shots, all very graphic and appalling to say the least. He never thought it possible from the Minister of Magic. It was the reason of Cornelius Fudge's best mate's death, all in the same year. 

The reason Helix Hudson was still alive, was because of these particular photos, had been hidden, quite cleverly too. Being a Ravenclaw, it surprised Draco that Fudge didn't find them. Then again, Draco suspected that Fudge severed all ties from his best friend's before having them killed off. 

Fudge, of course had hired someone, and was probably half way across the country during the time of the murders and inevitable torture; but that didn't stop Fudge's orders and conspiracy. But, the murders were the least of Draco's thoughts. Unless, he exposed Fudge outright to the whole world, there was no actual evidence. Draco would have to be careful with this information. It was disastrous in the wrong person’s hands. He thought about using this, as a way to announce to the world of Lord Voldemort’s return, but he couldn’t do too much at one time. If he did this, then everyone might believe Harry and Dumbledore was the one blackmailing the Minister, especially since Draco did this for the sole purpose of getting Harry free. However, he would keep them around… just in case. 

This was not a sex scandal, like one might think. Fudge and his mates did nothing of the sort. This was positively worse. If this got out into the hands of the world, then a rebellion would start. With Voldemort alive and wrecking havoc, the last thing the world needed was a rebellion. The way it ended last time, if Draco remembered the text’s correctly, it had taken wizards almost an age just to form a strained relationship, and even now, it’s still very tense. A lot of hate and anger came from this particular’s side, from the way they were treated in the past. 

Draco would of course, try to keep this hush, hush unless it came down to desperation. Although, he doubted, that it would ever get that far. 

The photograph’s that caused the lives of men, who were by no means innocent, were all seen torturing a group of goblins. Helix Hudson was only in one or two. Draco suspected that he had the camera most of the time. This was what the photographs were showing Draco. They were drunk, very evident from the whisky bottle in one of the guy's left hand while his wand pointed at a small unsuspecting goblin, it looked quite young. Maybe not a goblin‘s child age, but definitely not a fully grown goblin like the ones at Gringotts. There were two of them, if Draco assessed it right, and one of them was strung up by their clothing and pinned to the wall. Some of them were more brutal, and one showed a young Cornelius, dusty short old fashioned brown hair, it was very short around the ears and neck. His round youthful face had a drunken glee in it, while his wand was raised, and a bright red beam was shooting a goblin square in the chest. 

For one of the first times ever, Draco Malfoy, felt so very bad for another species. He had been taught, not to feel guilty for other people's wrong doings. But, this, this was just out of context. He shuddered, and stared down at them, flipping through images. They were horrific, one had Cornelius and all his friends sitting a battered and bound goblin on their laps and laughing in a drunken state. As if it was a funny thing to do. These were old images, around the 1950’s or so. 

It was disgusting, but it was a crime that was good enough for a thousand Dementors to devour the pompous bastard. Goblin’s were clever creatures. They were brilliant and could easily outwit any wizard who believed to be better, but if there were enough aggressive and powerful wizards, and the timing was right, it wouldn’t take too much to overpower one or two of them. Fudge and his friends, must have stumbled upon them by sheer accident - unless - they decided, while being drunk to go hunting, so to say. But, instead of muggles, they hunted anything of creature format. Many purebloods had a habit of believing creatures inferior to them, and while Draco had his beliefs, and was brought up to believe that they were all below him, he was beginning to learn just how - simple minded the notion truly was. 

He put the pictures back up on his desk, and leaned back, his eyes flickering to the high ceiling. Just seeing those pictures made Draco's skin crawl, and he began to think about what it would be like in the Dark Lord's services. If he thought, that, was inhuman, he could imagine what he would be forced to do. 

He shuddered, and cast his eyes back down onto his disorganized desk, thinking casually about how he would have to really fix this before he crashed for the night. He began gathering the photographs up in one hand, wand clasped tight in his other; with magic all around the manor, no one could detect Draco's magical usage, and so he took advantage of that. He started duplicating each and every photograph until he had several copies of each. He placed them in separate envelopes, before stashing each one in various hidden compartments of his study and his bedroom. Even keeping a set on Cherity, in case it was ever needed. He knew it might not be the wisest of decisions to keep the copies. But, who knew, who would find them?

He doubted Fudge would ever check up on Helix, in fear of something being resurrected. Hell, just Draco mentioning the word, Fudge got him the very answer he needed. 

He thought about how to approach Fudge. He shouldn't do it face to face. Malfoy to Fudge. That wouldn't be good for his father's reputation. This would have to be a silent job. A job, where Draco would be unable to boast or exploit his Slytherin qualities of running someone's name so far into the ground that they could scratch against the entrance to Hell itself. He decided that he would not give the picture to Fudge just yet; however, Draco would press on the matter of certain photographs having resurfaced. Draco would give the exact date and the friends involved, just in case anyone was to open the letter, to check for poisons and what-not.

With one last look at the photographs, he pulled out a sheet of parchment, followed by his quill and ink. 

 

00000

 

When Harry awoke, he felt a hand gently shaking his bare back. He raised his head, and opened his eyes, to see Ron standing there fully dressed. “Come on! Mum wants us awake and downstairs for breakfast.” 

Harry groaned, with exhaustion, as he laid his head down back onto the pillow. “M’k.” murmured the teen groggily. The teen struggled up into a sitting position and wiped the sleep from his eyes. He ran a hand through his hair. 

“Where’d you get all those new clothes?” asked Ron, as Harry shifted onto his stomach to sift through his trunk. 

“Ah, I went through catalogs. I was tired of wearing my cousin’s junk.” 

“Yeah, I don’t blame you. Doesn’t flatter you.” said Ron plopping down on Harry’s bed. “I’m glad to see you’re not pissed off anymore.” 

Harry sighed, “No time to be.” he said, pulling out clothes, and then sliding off the bed. “Be out in a bit.”

Harry was wearing sports clothes, black with a white strip down the side, and a white t-shirt with a black wolf’s head, on the back. The name of the brand was in cursive white on the side of Harry’s shirt. His hair fell loosely, and he was wearing black and white trainers to match. 

When he appeared downstairs with Ron at his side, he quickly made his way to Sirius and Remus, where he was nudged into the seat between them. Ron and Hermione sat opposite of him; everyone was doing their own thing. Ginny was on the floor playing with Crookshanks, Fred and George weren’t even in there, Mrs. Weasley. Mr. Weasley was at work. 

Sirius passed Harry the pancakes and then the maple syrup, as Remus handed him a basket of sausages. There was mild chatter, through out the morning meal. 

“I believe we need to tackle the drawing room. There are doxies all over the tapestries. What that house-elf has done all these years, I am not sure.” 

Hermione looked disapproving while Sirius scowled, “The damn thing has been listening to a bloody portrait all these ears.” he said, wolfing down a piece of sausage. “Wish I could stick him in the portrait.” 

Harry had met Kreacher and boy what a piece of work he was. A nasty little guy with a bullfrog voice. He was nothing like Dobby, and the way he talked about Sirius, made him sick. He had never seen a house-elf act in such a way. 

“Or on the wall.” murmured Ron, when Hermione kicked him under the table. The teen yelped, and glared at her. 

“Nah, that’s his life long dream. Why give him what he wants?” asked Sirius, casually. 

“Why not free him?” asked Harry. 

Sirius shook his head, “He knows too much.” 

“Can’t you - modify his memory?” suggested Hermione. “I mean - modify it and let him go?” 

“Memory charms work differently on creatures, Hermione.” said Sirius. “Believe me, I looked it up.” 

“Enough about that wretched elf!” sniffed Mrs. Weasley. “We have work to do, and it won’t get done, talking about that thing.” 

Hermione looked livid, “It’s an elf! A poor little elf.” she defended. 

“Poor my arse.” scowled Sirius. “Don’t let that elf fool you, Hermione! He knows exactly what is going on, he’s just waiting, Hermione. Not every house-elf or creature is as kind as their natural species. He grew up with my family, who were dark and very anti-muggle. He turned out just as nasty as them.” 

“He’s brainwashed!” 

“Correct, he is brainwashed, and he will never come out of it. He’s too old, too set in his ways. He‘s dangerous.” 

“He’s an elf!” squeaked Hermione. 

“Enough, Hermione,” said Ron, annoyed. “Enough chatter about house elves.” 

“Precisely, we have a drawing room waiting for us, chop chop!” Ordered Mrs. Weasley, clapping her hands twice. 

Hermione scowled and sulked, the whole way up to the drawing room. 

Fred and George met them upstairs, with masks, gloves and other things that they were to wrap around their faces, shielding all but their eyes. There were doxy spray bottles in a grey bucket. There was a desk in the corner rattling something fierce; 

Strong hands came up and squeezed Harry’s shoulder, affectionately. It was Sirius; he was standing just behind him.

“Think that’s a Boggart.” he told his godson. “Not entirely sure, as soon as Moody gets back, I believe, he’ll be having a look at it, with his eye.” 

“Oh.” said Harry with mild surprise. 

“Who knows what kind of malevolent stuff has been crawling around this place.” 

“How long has it been vacant?” asked Harry, purposely leaning into his godfather. 

Sirius shrugged, “Let’s see - my mother died just shortly after my little brother, and my father died about two years before dad. I would say about fifteen years or so?” 

“Wow. That’s quite a long time.” said Harry.

Mrs. Weasley came bustling through and demanded everyone gather around the tapestries. Harry smiled, at Sirius and regretfully stepped away from his godfather, and up to the tapestry where black stuff was caked up and down the purple tapestries. 

A few hours later, Harry was between Fred and George who was piling doxies into their pockets, that Mrs. Weasley insisted that sandwiches would be ready downstairs. Harry walked over, to where Sirius was sitting and staring at a dark plum coloured tapestry, it had been the only curtain in the room that was doxy free and in perfect condition. Harry shifted onto the man’s knee; Sirius’ hands raised and they touched his waist, and rubbed gently against the small teen’s sides. “I hate being back here.” He spoke softly, as Ron and Hermione took the hint to actually leave them alone. “I can’t stand it. I always ran to your fathers, during summer holiday. I was the white sheep in the family full of black sheep.” Harry slipped further from Sirius’ knee, pressing his back against the man’s chest. He wasn’t as bony as he remembered. He was shaven and his hair was long and black to his shoulders. It was thick, kind of like Harry’s. He looked almost normal, except for the vacant look in his grey eyes. Sirius had a bit of curl at the ends of his hair. Harry took the man’s hands into his; Sirius smiled fondly and hugged against him and pressed his chin to Harry’s shoulder. “Your grandparents were good about letting me stick around.” 

“Kind of like me and the Weasleys.” 

“Yeah, over there- you see that?” 

“Yeah.” 

“It’s got the family tree on it. All kinds of people are on it you may recognize. The Malfoy Family, are also on it, Tonks, she‘s my second cousin. My cousin Andromeda married a muggleborn man, named Ted Tonks. I think she‘s been zapped off the list, along with myself- my Uncle Alphard, he was a pretty good guy. He left me a bit of money when he died. I was able to get on without my parents until I was old enough to move out. When your mom and dad married, we all four moved in together. Remus, James, Lily, and I. Lily was pregnant with you, she was about three months pregnant when she got married to James. She had no idea, until she started throwing up.” Harry smiled, and listened. “Oh, your father was so happy, and I couldn’t have been happier, when James declared me as the godfather.” 

This was really nice, but there was a question bothering Harry, “Sirius?” 

“Hmm?” 

“How could you ever suspect Remus?”

Sirius’ eyes lowered and he heaved a gentle sigh, “At the time - there was so many people pumping things into our heads.” 

“But, why him? Of all the people?” 

“Cause he was smarter than Peter Pettigrew. No one ever figured Peter would be brave enough to side with Voldemort.” 

“But, this is Remus we’re talking about.” stressed Harry, softly. 

“I know, to you it sounds ludicrous and to Lily it did as well. Lily was positively furious at the assumption, but she was overruled, by the Order.” 

“The order is always right,” said Harry sarcastically. “Keeping me locked up isn’t right, believing you a murderer wasn’t right - and yet they believed it.” 

“It’s so much easier to put blame on others, than yourself. The truth is worse than lies at the time, because it hits so close to home. It knocks against ones ego, making them look like and sound like a raving lunatic.” 

“Did you really, truly, honestly, believe that Remus was the spy?” 

“We didn’t know what to believe, Harry.” said Sirius sadly. 

Harry sighed, and touched his godfather’s hands, which were bigger than his own. “I’m not accusing, I’m just wondering. I’m trying to get a sense - of then.”

“I know.” said Sirius, hugging him close. “I know that Harry.” He kissed his godson on the cheek. “I’m glad we’re able to be here, and talk together.” 

“Me too.” said Harry quietly. “If I get expelled-” 

“You won’t be.” 

“But, if I do. Can I come back here and live with you?” 

“You’d really want to live here?”

“Anywhere is better than the Dursleys.” 

“It must be bad there… to choose this over that.” 

“With you here, it‘s not bad.” He said, in the softest voice he could muster. Harry’s body relaxed greatly. 

Sirius smiled, and hugged closely. “I love you kid.” 

Harry grinned, feeling his heart warm up even more than it had before, “You better,” He declared, as Sirius chuckled. “Cause I love you too.” 

000

Harry finished writing his letter back to Draco, and had it sent off in the middle of the night by Hedwig. He then sank down next to his godfather and Remus, and he drank a glass of Firewhisky while listening to them talk about their time at school. Both, telling him things, he enjoyed hearing. 

The days that lead up to Harry’s trial was beginning to wear thin. The teen was more and more nervous, even though everyone including Draco had told him it was going to be alright. He thought about it, life as a muggle once again. He couldn’t think of a more depressing matter than being locked up at the Dursley’s until he was old enough to leave on his own. He shuddered violently at the mere thought of it. Anxiety had taken a hold of his body, and he found himself more restless in the dark manor than his godfather Sirius. 

It was just a few short days, before the trial, and it was early morning, when Harry stifled a yawn and staggered down the steps, still in pyjamas. He hadn’t been sleeping properly at all. The dreams of winding corridors and more locked doors invaded him, and he was convinced it had something to do with being held prisoner. He passed Kreacher, who croaked and scratched at his hind-end. Harry just scrunched his nose and walked on passed, into the light of the kitchen. 

“HARRY!!!!” Mrs. Weasley was up and she ran to Harry, handing him a bright purple letter with a gold seal. “It’s the Ministry! Hurry, open it!” 

Harry blinked, trying to understand just, what the Weasley Matron was telling him. He saw the letter, he saw the purple colour and the gold seal, but he still couldn’t comprehend. Everyone was staring at him, expectantly. 

“Calm down Molly! Let him get a hold of himself.” stated Sirius, curling his arm around his godson, pulling the boy down onto his knee. 

Harry just fell back against his godfather, as the man took the letter, and held it out in front of him. After a moment, he swallowed, and shakily took the letter. Slowly, he ripped the seal and pulled out a thick sheet of parchment. 

Dear Harry J. Potter,

The Ministry of Magic, hereby dismiss all charges in which have been bestowed upon your being. No expulsion or action will be taken against you, for your use of the Patronus Charm on August 2nd, 1995 in the muggle alley of Magnolia Crescent, in the presence of a muggle. You are hereby granted permission to continue your education at Hogwart’s School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, beginning September 1st. We apologize for any inconvenience this may have caused you, and hope that you enjoy the rest of your summer holiday. 

Thank you,

Sincerely Yours,   
Ministry of Magic 

Sirius did a loud, whoop, standing with Harry in his arms. He spun around, and called out, “Hell yeah! They dropped the charges!” 

The teen being moved around like a rag doll barely registered the fact that people began to hug him, and congratulate him. Harry was too stunned. How did this happen? He asked himself, as Hermione squealed and grabbed him around the neck, talking about how; she knew it was unjustified in the first place. 

Draco, thought Harry. It was him, which got him off. He looked down at the letter, why were they congratulating him? He did nothing, but ignore Draco’s word on going outside and now, Draco was fixing the mess he was slung into. He swallowed, and when he was finally put down by Fred, he collapsed back in Sirius’ lap. 

“Harry? What’s wrong?” asked Hermione, with concern. “Aren’t you happy?” 

Harry looked up from his distant glance, “Oh, yeah, I was just thinking.” He gave them as big of a smile as he could. “I’m ecstatic. When can we go to Diagon Alley?” But, inside, he felt slight shame, over the fact that Draco had to bail him out. He collapsed back down into Sirius’ lap, who was holding him tightly, and laughing, his grey eyes with a glitter that had never been seen. 

As Mrs. Weasley started to pull out the best of everything for a wonderful breakfast, and Hermione and Ron were occupied, Remus leaned over, wrapping his arm around Harry’s back. “Hey, pup?” Harry looked over at the kind werewolf, whose amber eyes glittered, “You feel guilty don’t you?”

Sirius hearing this leaned up, “Whatever for?” 

“He got me off.” Whispered Harry. “I know he did. He kept writing me, and telling me not to worry about it, that he had it covered. He didn’t have to do this, after I recklessly yelled at him and - ran out on him.” 

Remus rubbed Harry’s back, “Don’t think like that, Harry. He would not have wanted you too-” He whispered. 

“Yeah, if he really did have something to do with this, it’s obvious, he understands and cares.” 

Harry nodded, “I just - feel shameful. I didn’t listen, like the silly Gryffindor that I am…” He said, dryly. 

Remus and Sirius opened their mouths to protest when Mrs. Weasley, came bustling over, insisting that Harry needed to put on a few pounds. 

Thus, meaning their conversation ended.


End file.
